Author Archives: residentjudge

AHA Conference 6th July 2016

Left bright and early for the second day at the AHA conference in Ballarat. Strictly speaking, I left in the drizzly dark at 6.30 a.m.  I don’t think that I’ve ever caught a train quite that early in the morning. The carriage was much quieter than it is later in the morning or in the evening, and there is an odd intimacy when you looking at your fellow passengers, knowing that just an hour before they were all asleep in bed, lying curled up and vulnerable.

The rain set in at about Bacchus Marsh and so the train drew into a Ballarat that was just as dismal as the preceding day.

 Remembering ANZAC

Over recent months I’ve taken over writing a column in the Heidelberg Historical Society’s newsletter which makes a summary of Heidelberg events one hundred years ago. Of course 1916 was in the midst of WWI and so I’ve developed an interest in the WWI homefront that I didn’t know that I had before. I missed the first paper in this session because I just couldn’t face the idea of a 5.30 a.m train but very much enjoyed the next two papers, especially as they intersected with my interested in the warfront at a very local level.

The first paper by Claire Greer was titled ‘Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Exploring Homefront Hardship Through the Lens of the Great War’. In a work in progress, she is taking the Perth suburb of Subiaco and mapping out the enlistment and casualty information at a community, street by street and individual level. In particular she focusses on married men who enlisted at Subiaco at a higher level (32%) than elsewhere in Australia. Part of her work has involved identifying where and how often individual soldiers were memorialized on honour boards and through other acts of commemoration. How and why did a community claim particular soldiers as ‘theirs’? What were the networks that made that soldier part of the community? Moving down to street level, she mapped the enlistments in a particular street (Olive Street) and from there focussed on a particular family- that of John Monson. (????I’m having trouble reading my own writing!) In tracing through his story, the high level of married enlistment perhaps becomes clearer as we see the Monson family thriving in the goldrush town of Kookynie only to lose everything as the gold boom subsides.  The marriage founders, so when John enlists he puts down his son as next-of-kin rather than his wife.  I really liked this fine-grained use of the deluge of data generated by the ANZAC centenary to investigate the homefront rather than the warfront.

The next paper of the session was Bryce Abraham’s “An Affront to British Chivalry: Colonial Thought and the Cultural Clash at Surafend 1918”. I had heard of the Wasser Riots in the red light district of Cairo in 1915, but I had not heard of Surafend at all. On December 1918, after the war had finished, a detachment of the ANZAC Mounted Division converged at the then-Palestinian village of Surafend where, in order to avenge the death of a New Zealand soldier, they separated the women and children and massacred the men (there are no firm figures of the number of deaths) and torched the village. They then moved on to a nearby Bedouin village.  The Commander-in-Chief of the ANZACS, Edmund Allenby was furious and cancelled end of the war recommendations for the whole group. At investigations into the incident, the soldiers were uncooperative, finding themselves mysteriously unable to identify anyone who was responsible (although the NZ soldiers intimated that the Australians were responsible while the Australians suggested the opposite). The massacre took place beyond the war arena, in the transition to peace, to people they were supposed to be protecting.  Abraham notes that there had been incidents before, but that this was the pinnacle of racial conflict between the Palestinians and the ANZACS and was another manifestation of the racialized White Australia mindset that dominated turn of the century Australian political life.

Boom and bust in Australian and New Zealand History

As it happened, the WWI theme continued into the next session as well in what seems a bit of a grab-bag title. The third speakers didn’t turn up, and the two papers that were given fitted together quite well

Martin Crotty spoke on the poorly planned pilgrimage to WWI sites organized by the RSL in his paper ‘The RSL’s 1965 Gallipoli Pilgrimage: Botching it Up Again’. This was not the first pilgrimage back to the Peninsular organized by the RSL: there had been others in 1955 and 1960. But those pilgrimages were small, exclusive and expensive excursions, often involving people who had not even made the landing. This 1965 pilgrimage to mark the 50th anniversary was larger, shorter at 3 weeks, and with the injection of some funding from the government, cheaper (although it was still a sizeable 4000 pounds per head). The pilgrimage had two aims: first, to provide these Gallipoli diggers with a positive pilgrimage experience and second, to provide good publicity for the RSL which at the time feared that the ANZAC story would be forgotten. The historian Ken Inglis accompanied the pilgrimage, and Crotty has consulted Inglis’ exhaustive (if often illegible) archives which include the documentation on the pilgrimage. It was a debacle. The three hundred elderly men were flown over to the Middle East, put on a sparsely equipped Turkish ship, and rushed from one celebration to another when all they wanted was to be able to walk around the places they’d been and pay their respects to their fallen comrades. Three men died; others were sick for months afterwards.  But even if they didn’t achieve a positive pilgrimage experience, the RSL did get its good publicity, with many newspaper articles that said little of the dissatisfaction of the pilgrims. And, as we know, the RSL’s fears about ANZAC being forgotten were well and truly misplaced.

This paper was followed by Joanna Leahy’s paper “‘Knitting with a Will, Knitting for their Empire’: the World War One Knitting Boom.”  One of the things that I’ve noticed in compiling my Hundred Years Ago column for the newsletter is the mountains and mountains of socks that are being knitted by the good women and girls of Fairfield, Alphington, Ivanhoe and Heidelberg. As part of her study of domestic knitting and crochet in Australia 1840-1940, Leahy has examined these World War I  socks – all 1.3 million (at least) pairs of them.  There’s one in the Australian War Memorial, abandoned half-way through and still on the needles when Nellie Blain heard of the death of her older brother, for whom she was knitting.  The patterns for these socks were readily available in the newspapers and special pamphlets.  While acknowledging this huge effort, however, she notes that is it part of a longer tradition of domestic and charitable knitting.

 PLENARY SESSION: THE CITY

This was the first plenary session that I have attended at this conference, having arrived too late for yesterday’s one. Each of the speakers adopted a different stance toward the topic. “Centering the City: Spaces of Practice in Australian Urban and Regional History. Louise Prowse’s paper wasn’t about the city at all- instead she looked at regional towns at how they have framed their identities. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, they positioned themselves as separate settlements, in the fresh air far from the city, with their own local families and industries. This changed from the middle of the 20th century when, instead, regional towns prided themselves on their replication of city leisure facilities- the swimming pools, parks, shops etc. In this way, regional towns became more generic.  However, from the 1960s there was an explosion in the number of historical societies (in the city, but even more in country areas) which began marking and memorializing their own local and  particular history. Towns began reconfiguring their streetscapes to enhance their heritage features- although which particular era did they privilege?  She pointed to the recent phenomenon of local food-based regional tourism which, unlike the 1960s tourism, does not draw a distinction between visitors and locals.

Andrew May started his contribution quoting from a travel diary written by a Welsh tourist who visited North America, Australia and New Zealand (I can’t quite remember when- I assume late 19th/early 20th century). She was dismissive of Melbourne and its sanitation problems, but warmed immediately to Ballarat. A visitor to a city assesses a new place in terms of their storehouse expectations and experience, and this differs for us all.  Yet, he noted, the major national histories of Australia tend to disregard urban histories despite the oft-repeated claim that Australia is the most urbanized country in the world and not withstanding Graeme Davison’s hugely influential article ‘Sydney and the Bush: An Urban Context for the Australian Legend’ which highlighted the urban origin of the ‘bush’ stories and poets in the Bulletin.  He emphasized the international dimensions of the municipal movement of the 1840s which saw the Incorporation of both Melbourne and Sydney (pipped by Adelaide) and noted the significance and longevity of Town Clerks.

Lisa Murray is the young, very enthusiastic (and active!) City Historian employed by the City of Sydney. In a rather corporate presentation, she outlined the objectives of the City Historian position, the projects it had been involved in and its relationship with other individuals and groups in Sydney who might want to adopt a ‘history’ approach in their production of civic, artistic and planning endeavours. The program makes use of digital and multimedia platforms, and is not so much into marking memorials through plaques as in making  memories through oral histories and drawing on shared public memories. An interesting conundrum though- a mural in a park created in the 1980s had spawned a popular history of carnivals, elephants and balloons supposedly found on the site in the past, but the carnival was only there for six months and there was no elephant, and no balloon. A piece of artwork had in effect implanted false memories for the local residents.

Finally, Simon Sleight started his presentation with a picture of the Burke and Wills statue in Collins Street, before it started its peregrinations around different Melbourne sites until ending up in its present location on the corner of Swanston and Collins Streets. His interest was not so much the statue as the people loitering around it, which led to a discussion of walking and loitering around Melbourne during its years as a ‘walking city’ between 1860-1920 when people walked by choice, not necessity. There was walking The Block for respectable people; meeting under the clocks at Flinders Street, and the increasing perception of danger on Princes Bridge.  He noted parallels with other cities- the Monkey Parades in UK or New York’s Bowery.

Transnational Celebrity in the Twentieth Century: Australia, New Zealand, North America and Britain.

My final session for the day was a panel discussion of four celebrity women who visited Australia during the twentieth century.

Desley Deacon started with her paper “Celebrity, Empire and American Morals in 1927: Australia Rejects the Young Judith Anderson.” Judith Anderson (originally Francie Anderson) returned to Australia in December 1926, eight years after she had left Australia as a 21 year old. While in America, she had had great success on Broadway, and when she first arrived back in Australia, the press greeted her enthusiastically. However,  her performance in ‘The Green Hat’ was absolutely slated in reviews, so viciously that her eight-month tour ended in a physical and mental breakdown. She was hospitalized for six weeks, and left Australia quietly.  But perhaps it was not her, or her performance that caused the offence: instead, there was a strong rejection at the time of the Americanization of film and a suspicion of American culture as usurping British and Australian culture- and The Green Hat, with its ‘sordid’ plotline fed right into that hostility.

There was no hostility, however, for Guide Rangi (more properly, Rangitiaria Dennan), a 57 year old Maori guide from Rotorua, who arrived in Australia in 1954, just after she had shown Queen Elizabeth around the thermal area of New Zealand.  She was a household name in New Zealand, and exemplified the Maori guide in the public imagination. The guide was now the celebrity, and the press followed her visits to the Shrine of Remembrance, photographed her hugging a koala, and conducted meet-and-greets at the Tourism Agency. The press continued to lionize her, even when she made critical comments about the treatment of aborigines, at a time when few indigenous people in Australia had the same public recognition.

Finally, Cecilia Morgan spoke about ‘The Theatrical Tours of Two Canadian Margarets: Transnational Celebrity in Early Twentieth-Century Australia and New Zealand’. The two Margarets were Margaret Anglin, who visited beteen 1908-9 and Margaret Bannerman who followed her twenty years later.  Both women were Canadian, even though Margaret Anglin performed on the American stage, and Margaret Bannerman had a successful career in London’s West End.  Where Judith Anderson suffered from the hostility towards Americanization of stage and screen twenty years later, Margaret Anglin did not.  Both women were publicized for their stylish clothes; both were described as friendly and approachable, and unlike Judith Anderson, they both starred in plays and displayed a celebrity identity which emphasized cultural dominion affinities.

And by now, I had a bus to catch so I had to leave….

 

Several of today’s sessions were held at Federation Uni’s School of Mines campus. I’d seen it from the outside, but didn’t realize how lovely it is inside.  Actually, Federation Uni has a real presence right in the centre of town which it didn’t some years ago.

 

AHA Conference 5 July 2016

It’s July, so that means AHA conference time and this year it’s some 100 kms away in chilly Ballarat- ye Gods, could there possibly be a more dismal place than Ballarat on a wet, rainy Tuesday in July?  The theme of the conference is “From Boom to Bust” – a fitting theme for a gold-rush town- and some papers have taken it up in their titles.

Medical histories

Now that the thesis no longer looms over me, I have the luxury of just going to whatever takes my fancy. As it happens, for the first session for the day it was ‘Medical Histories’. The first paper, by Kate Irving was titled “American ‘Schools for Idiotic Children’: Eugenic Asylums and the Limits of ‘Boom to Bust’ Narratives. The ‘Boom to Bust’ narrative arc is often used by medical disability historians to describe the trajectory of institutionalization. Up until the mid 19th century, there was a view that the catch-all term  ‘idiocy’ was a permanent condition, manifested through physical appearance with an emphasis on speech. There was a change mid-century, particularly through the work of Seguin, who saw such children as educable, their condition caused by “arrested development of the will”, amenable to physiological education and carefully structured instruction. However, by the end of the century, separate schools were used for predominantly custodial purposes of keeping ‘dangerous’ young people locked away from society, with the smaller education-based schools taken over by large, more segregated institutions with more of an emphasis on science.  While  not rejecting this ‘boom-to-bust’ characterization completely, Irving noted that there is no neat dichotomy between the three phases, and argued that local, social and personal  factors also played a part in the construction of medical categories over time. Her work looked at the clinical notes about the children written by staff at Elm Hill Private Institution for Feeble Minded Youth in Massachusetts, a private institution patronized by wealthy families. Her presentation was illustrated by the studio photographs taken of the children in Elm Hill’s care, which were not at all the custodial-type pictures you might have expected to see.

Next up was ‘The World May See your Trade in your Faces: Labour and the Face in Early Modern Medicine’ by Emily Cock as part of her postdoc work funded by the Wellcome Trust called ‘Effaced from History: The Disfigured and their Stories from Antiquity to the Present Day’. Her paper looked at a publication by Bernardo Ramazzini published in 1700 that classified the diseases and injuries common amongst particular trades e.g. the bleary features of the sweaty blacksmith; the disfigured mercury miner suffering from the fumes; the weedy academic reading too much!  The book was organized by trade, with men’s and women’s work intermingled.  She noted the facial slashes meted out to prostitutes and adulterers as punishment, and the role of facial injuries as evidence of military service and the ‘safety’ denoted by the smallpocked nursemaid who could no longer transmit the disease to children.  An amazingly early example of what would become occupational health and safety consciousness in the early 18th century!

Finally, Yorick Smaal spoke on ‘Boys and Institutional Sexual Abuse’- a topic that is being aired by the current Royal Commission. His paper drew on four cases studies from Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom from the early 1900s. His paper started with the Stoke Industrial School Inquiry in New Zealand in the 1890s where the Marist Brothers were investigated. Although the Inquiry found that there was no case to answer, criminal charges were laid against the brothers the following year. Although they were all acquitted, it showed that the state could (however rarely) intervene, and in fact there were 15000 cases over 50 years where parents took up the complaints of their children. For institutionalized children without adult advocates however, there was less opportunity for redress.  Often the internal inquiries set up by the institutions themselves were more concerned with protecting the reputation of the organization (sounds familiar?)

Frontier Encounters

After lunch I returned to  more familiar ground of frontier encounters.  In a room too small for the numbers Mark Dunn started with ‘Civilised or Savage: the Colonial Legacy of Robert and Helenus Scott.’ These two brothers, who arrived in NSW in 1823, were left fatherless when their father died on the voyage but their family’s networks ensured that they soon met with the Governor, befriended John Macarthur and were the recipients of adjacent land grants on the Hunter River that they combined to establish Glendon, which still stands today.  Robert Scott (who seems to have been the more dominant of the pair) engaged aboriginal guides to locate their grant, assist in collecting artefacts for dispatch to patrons and friends overseas, and to work on their station.  Yet Robert Scott also led a posse of settlers to search for indigenous groups accused of attacking stations, and was highly visible in defending the settlers in the Myall Creek massacre- so visible that he was dropped as a magistrate afterwards. Working with the extensive archive of Scott family correspondence, Dunn is hoping to explore the complexity of the Scott families relationship with indigenous people.

Next was Leonie Stevens with her fascinating work on the Flinders Island Chronicle,a handwritten newspaper created by two Van Diemen’s Land indigenous youths, Thomas Brune and Walter George Arthur during the exile on Flinders Island between 1836-7.  The Chronicle has been dismissed as being of little interest or merely a Christianizing propaganda tool under the control of George Augustus Robinson. However, in her paper ‘The Contaminated Gaze: Misrepresenting and Re-Presenting the Flinders Island Chronicle’,  Stevens returns to the source document and, in Greg Dening’s words, gives the past back its present tense. She points out that Christianity is only part of what was written about and that the Chronicle also wrote about present events, people and what people were doing. Instead of a passive, ‘weeping in silence’, the Chronicle was a cacophony of action, part of a longer campaign of writing amongst the Van Diemens Land people.

The final paper for this session was Imogen Wegman, who gave a lively presentation about surveyors in Tasmania – surely a documentary program will soon snap up such an engaging young historian?  The first surveys were conducted in Tasmania in 1803 by Harris, who was accused of corruption and incompetence, especially when the land was re-surveyed some years later by professional surveyors.  The anomalies, however, were not rectified.  Her methodology uses big data and the Historical Geographic Information Systems  to give a spatial reference- a different type of analysis to the close-up use of land grant documents previously used.  It interested me that, in spite of the wealth of information and ‘grunt’ that such methodologies offer, she is still not absolutely sure how the surveying was done: did the settler go with them when they surveyed? Did the settler use a sketch and say ‘I want that land’?  Yet another example where often the sources are silent on processes that were self-evident at the time and completely opaque today.

Panel: ‘The Fortunes of women?’: life, death and loss in reproduction in Australia 1850-1970

The final session for the day ran chronologically, tracing through women, childbirth and loss in three papers.

Madonna Grehan’s paper was “‘A piteous tale of human suffering: having a baby at home in nineteenth century Australia 1850-1880”. As became clear in the questions after her presentation, the parallels she draws between 19th century maternal deaths and the current push for ‘physiological’ home-births are quite deliberately politically targeted. She is a historian, nurse and midwife and the issue is of more than academic interest to her. Drawing on 300 maternal death investigations, the poignant reports of women  ‘In articulo mortis’ (in the jaws of death) or ‘Angor Animi’ ( convinced that they are about to die) was starkly illustrated by the testimony of husbands, families and others, unable to help these women who died giving birth at home. Sixty-one percent of the women she studied died from haemorrhage either during or after birth.  There’s an interesting article in Provenance that picks up on many of the themes in her presentation and I also very much enjoyed her A.G.L. Shaw lecture on birth and death statistics that you can hear as a podcast.

Next, Dot Wickham examined the local Ballarat Female Refuge in her paper ‘Fallen Doves: Single Women and Their Babies 1891-1921′. As with Grehan’s paper before her, she started with a story- in this case, that of Rhoda Shute who knocked on the door of the Ballarat Female Refuge, had her child, and remained there for two years suffering most probably from what we would now called PND,  before being committed to the lunatic asylum, with her child taken from her. The refuge was established in 1867 by a group of 26 women, located 5 km from the lying-in hospital at the Ballarat Benevolent Asylum- a journey that the women had to walk themselves in labour when cab trips were curtailed. Her work is an analysis of the admissions registers and doctor’s books over 30 years from 1890 to 1920. The doctors’ notes are sometimes terse and judgmental, but there are other entries that are sympathetic and overwhelming concerned with the welfare of the child. She finished her paper by returning to Rhoda Shute, who returned to live with her brothers and never married.

The final paper for the session, and for the day, was Judith Godden’s paper “Boom to Bust in Adoption: The Case of Crown Street Women’s Hospital” which looked at forced adoptions at Crown Street (Sydney) between 1950s and 1970s.  The hospital was founded in 1893 with a strong social conscience, but soon became known as an overcrowded baby factory.  Her statistical work on the records note a slippage between the wide definition of ‘single mother’ which included widows, women who had a child through adultery or women from asylums, and a narrow definition of a ‘single mother’ as a never-married, unsupported woman. She highlighted the significance of the Supporting Mothers Benefit in 1971 which led in a decrease of  children ‘given up’ from 48% in 1971 to 7% in 1980.  Her presentation highlighted the cruelty of forced adoption: the pillow held up to obscure the view, the belief that if a mother did not hold her child then she would not grieve it, and the heavy drug schedule given to mothers (although she pointed out that all women received drugs during and after birth). And at that point, I had to leave to come home…….

[These summaries are written from my scribbled notes and the abstracts in the conference handbook.  If I’ve misrepresented your presentation, please let me know. [residentjudge at gmail]

 

 

‘The High Places’ by Fiona McFarlane

highplaces

2015, 275 p.

And so here I am again, having finished a book of short stories, and quite at a loss to know how to review them.  It’s certainly a very accomplished selection and there wasn’t a single story where I turned the page only to wonder ‘what was THAT all about?’ when the story had unexpectedly ended. These are all well-shaped stories, with a sense of wholeness in the small slice-of-life that is their focus.  Several of them have a rather old-fashioned,  parable-like, ‘once-upon-a-time’  narrative tone which I liked.

My favourite ones? The opening story ‘Exotic Animal Medicine’ is excellent, jumping between a young vet’s treatment of an animal in her care, and an excruciating present-time car-crash and giving comfort to an injured man.  I very much enjoyed ‘Unnecessary Gifts’ which had a similar slow-motion disaster as two brothers go missing in a deserted shopping centre at Chrismas time, and ‘The Movie People’ where a township is changed by the experience of having a movie set move in, and then move on.  ‘Violet, Violet’ reminded me of O. Henry.  In fact, there’s not a single weak story here, and as I flip through I think – “oh yes, that one was good too..and that one…and that one.”

And this is only McFarlane’s first book of short stories? And she has only had one (very well-received) novel?  What pleasures await us….

I have posted this review in the Australian Women Writers Challenge.

aww2016

Movie: Chasing Asylum

Even if you accept Malcolm Turnbull’s argument that offshore detention is necessary to stop deaths at sea, I think that all Australians need to see what is being done on behalf of “the Australian people” and take responsibility for it.  Brave people speaking out  in this documentary risk jail under the Border Force Act, in order that we can see these camps that are so rigorously hidden from our view.

This Week in Port Phillip 1841″ 1-7 June 1841

THE ‘DIGNITY’ BALL

Are you all on the edges of your seats, waiting for the Dignity Ball scheduled for 4th June? Well, you’ll need to wait another week because it was rescheduled from Friday 4th to Tuesday 8th June at the request of several Presbyterian families who would not otherwise have been able to attend.  Stay tuned.

THE MULTICULTURAL SUPREME COURT

Two small snippets in the Port Phillip Herald during this week allude to the multicultural nature of early Port Phillip, an aspect often overlooked in the emphasis on Scots, Irish and English immigration to the colony.

On 4 June mention was made of a Muslim (or ‘Mahometan’) witness who was unable to swear on the Koran, because one was not available.   Redmond Barry, who had called the witness, suggested that in future a Koran should be available for that purpose. Judge Willis told him that it would be counsel’s responsibility to ensure that one was provided.

A few days earlier on 1 June, a light-hearted article reported on an interchange in the court between a Chinese witness, his hastily-improvised interpreter and the court. Historian Nadia Rhook has written about Charles Powell Hodges who was appointed the Chief Chinese Interpreter in 1871 (library login required) but this case arose during the earliest sittings of the Supreme Court in Port Phillip, long before the influx of Chinese  during the Gold Rush of the 1850s.

CHINESE LANGUAGE- At the last Criminal Court it was necessary that an interpreter should be sworn to elucidate the language of a native of the Celestial Empire who talked Chinese. After a little stir in the court, a gentleman who had resided both in Penang and Canton, was installed, when the following amusing dialogue ensued, being a very novel specimen of oral Chinese:

Gentleman:- How ya, how can do; what you see?

Chinaman:- Me see him sun, him moon, him star

Gentleman:- You see many use bayonet?

Chinaman:- No me see man use pin; ‘tick woman in him breast, like one turkey.

Gentleman: Hi ya. What for ‘tick him in the breast?

Chinaman:- Just like tickle; all over funny

Gentleman:- When woman die?

Chinaman:- Six- eight moon ago- she nice woman, make he so so – all one dress like not’ing

Gentleman:- You good witness

Chinaman:- He yaw

Here ended the scene.

The case during which this interchange occurred was the murder trial of Thomas Leahy on 15 May, who plead not guilty to the charge of murder of his wife.  In Paul Mullaly’s analysis of the case found on the RHSV Judge Willis site, the Chinese witness was John Horn, a ‘Chinaman’ who lived at Portland, where the murder occurred. Prior to accepting Horn’s evidence, Willis tested his competence as a witness by asking whether he was a Christian and whether he understood the difference between truth and a lie. Willis then asked how Horn would have been examined in his own country. Horn replied that he would break a saucer to represent what would be his fate if he did not tell the truth.  As the Port Phillip Herald of 25 May had reported it:

A CHINAMAN’S OATH: A Chinaman named Horne [sic] having to be sworn in the Supreme Court the other day, was handed a blue and white earthernware soup plate, which having looked on with becoming reverence he dashed to pieces upon the floor of the witness box, the the astonishment of the uninitiated in such matters. Upon being called upon to explain how that ceremony was binding upon his conscience, he exclaimed “Me no speakee truth, then me fall pieces all like one plate.” (PPH 25/5/41 p.3)

The case continued. Leahy was not represented by counsel, and so Willis asked barrister Edward Brewster to act for him. When Brewster complained that the Crown Prosecutor, James Croke, was leading the witness, it was decided that an interpreter was needed.  The Justice of the Peace Robert Martin, who had lived in Penang and Canton, was called upon to act as a makeshift interpreter, leading to the interchange reported above.

In the end, Leahy was found guilty and sentenced to death. However, when the case was sent up to Sydney, doubts were raised about whether the Supreme Court could sit in both Sydney and Melbourne simultaneously.  By the time it was decided that it could, Willis and La Trobe had sent up a recommendation for mercy, and Leahy’s sentence was commuted to transportation for life.

THE MANTON BROTHERS’ MILL

In the entry for May 1-7, I noted the opening of John Dight’s mill on what is now known as Dight’s Falls.  Dight’s Falls may well have come to be known as Manton’s Falls instead, as three brothers Frederick, Charles and John Manton had planned to build a water mill there as well. However, when they were denied permission to do so, they built a steam saw and flour mill on land that they had purchased previously in Flinders Street. (See a summary of a speech ‘Give Us This Day our Daily Bread’ given to the Port Phillip Pioneers by Margaret Kaan in February 2012)

Charles and Frederick Manton 1872. Photographer: Thomas Charles Chuck. State Library of Victoria http://www.slv.vic.gov.au

Located opposite the wharf, it may well have been in a more advantageous location, and Manton Brothers established themselves as both mill proprietors and merchants. It was a short-lived enterprise, though, as the company was dissolved in 1843 in the wake of the economic depression.  There was no sign of this in June 1841, however…

MR MANTON’S STEAM MILLS. The Steam Mills on the Wharf are nearly completed.  The chimney has raised …to a height of seventy feet, and [shows?] much credit on the builder, for a more elegant structure is seldom seen at [home as?] the one alluded to presents. ..the sawing department is completed and will commence work immediately, and is capable of cutting up four thousand feet of timber in twelve hours.  The corn mill is being roofed in and will be at work in [?] weeks, grinding two hundred and fifty bushels of wheat per day. The whole of the machinery in these mills is of [?] order, and when in operation will be well worthy of inspection. (PPH 4/6/41 p. 2)

ENTREPRENEURIAL AGILITY

Our 21st century entrepreneurs had nothing on the 1841 entrepreneurs of Port Phillip, who managed to combine surprising, but quaintly logical, commercial endeavours within the one enterprise.  Take Mr Crook, for instance:

Crook

(PPH 4/6/41 p.1)

SOME POETRY

In a settlement with many newcomers, and where  financially-stable early settlers and their families were travelling back ‘home’ for a visit, this poem offers a salutary warning:

THE EXILE’S RETURN

poem1

poem2

HOW’S THE WEATHER?

Not too bad, actually. The weather was “fine and clear” with the warmest day on 4th June when it reached 65 (18.3C), and a low for the week of 45 (7.2). There was no rain and the wind was generally light, although fresh on 1st and 2nd June.

Movie: Sherpa

Beautifully filmed, this documentary tells in real time the avalanche of 18 April 2014 that took the lives of sixteen sherpas and prompted their refusal to climb Chomolungma, the mother god of Earth that we know as Mt Everest. Big Western money was at stake here with customers ( because, let’s face it- this IS a business) paying big money to have Sherpas transport their every need from camp to camp so that they could cross ‘Everest’ off their bucket list.  Westerners crossed the treacherous and unstable Khumbu Icefall glacier just twice: the Sherpas crossed it twenty to thirty times, carrying heavy loads in the darkness because sunlight made the glacier even more treacherous and unpredictable.  There had been conflict in 2013 when a Westerner swore on the mountain, viewed by the Sherpas as a holy site, and after this avalanche the Sherpas were under government and commercial pressure to recommence their work.

You’re told in the opening sequence that the avalanche is going to occur, and I found myself holding my breath wondering just when it was going to happen. I felt angry at the manipulation exerted on the Sherpas, and the self-centredness of the disgruntled customers.  And, watching this in the knowledge of the death just recently of that young Australian woman on Everest, made me even more certain that there is no way, physically or ethically, that I would ever climb it!

This Week in Port Phillip 1841: May 24-31

“Melbourne” the Port Phillip Gazette announced grandly at one stage “boils over like a bush cauldron with the scum of fierce disputes.”  Of course, the Port Phillip Herald was often completely complicit in adding to the fire of disputes, but during this week in May, and the following weeks in June, we see the small colonial outpost of Port Phillip at full boil.

As I described in an earlier post, the King’s or Queen’s Birth-Day was (and still is) celebrated across the empire on different days at different times. In 1841 Victoria was on the throne, and her birthday was 24 May. The length of her reign really embedded that date on the colonial calendar.

According to the Port Phillip Gazette (PPG 8/5/41 p.3) the idea of holding a Birth-Day ball for the first time in Melbourne was mooted at the Caledonian Hotel, where a number of squatters decided that there should be a Race Ball to close the race carnival.  The stewards, however, decided that it should be held on the Queen’s Birth-Day instead, and that it should be a Private Ball rather than a Public Ball. Expenditure of 500 pounds was approved and 180 tickets put aside.

However, as the Port Phillip Patriot reported, when Mr G. G. Sullivan R. N. approached Redmond Barry and asked to be put onto the list of subscribers, he was referred to one of the stewards, William Meek.  Meek, who did not want such people to lower the tone of the gathering,  told him that the list was already full, which Sullivan disputed as he named several people who were going whose names were not yet on the list. Meek agreed to put Mr Sullivan’s complaint before the Stewards, who noted his letter but said that there was no need to comment further on it.

In the resulting furore it was decided that ball planned for the 24th May at Yarra Yarra House  would be opened up to a more ‘general’ admission with new Stewards appointed (Messrs Abrahams, Langhorne, Kerr, Connolly, Sullivan and Urquhart). The original Stewards ( Messrs Simpson, Powlett, Meek, James McArthur, Lyon Campbell, Verner, Major St John) would conduct a Private Ball instead (sneeringly characterized by the Port Phillip Patriot as the ‘Dignity’ Ball) at Mr Davis’ Exchange Rooms at a later date.

Underpinning the clash of these two Balls lay the question of colonial respectability.  Quaint as it might seem to us today, it was a question of fundamental importance to a large social stratum within Port Phillip Society, as historians Kirsten McKenzie and Penny Russell have so clearly shown. As ‘Perpateicus’ wrote to the Port Phillip Patriot on May 17

It is impossible, indeed, that society should long exist without distinctions; a line must be drawn somewhere; where choice is afforded, men will be guided by some rule in their selection.  In the colonies more especially, circumspection is needful, from the obscurity which surrounds private individuals, not to mention that many came abroad expressly for the purpose of taking up new characters, alien alike to their birth and their former habits.  In this point of view, colonial life is a grand masquerade, in which some assume stations to which they have no pretensions, while others sink those to which they justly entitled.  In such a medley, who is to judge? The members of the Club very naturally conclude that all beyond their pale are unworthy of regard.  The country settler repudiates the friendship of the Melbourne merchant. The nouveau riche derides the pretensions of his less fortunate neighbour. Latterly we have seen even the Bench itself reviving obsolete statutes for the purpose of distinctions which might better have been left to the judgment of society….[For]any man to submit his pretensions to a clique of individual who, besides being self-constituted and blessed by Club notions, have committed themselves to the egregious sentiment that gold is the correlative of gentility, would be an act of sheer folly, and a downright dereliction of self-respect. Though favourable to the distinction of society, it is important that such distinctions should be founded on some merit real or presumable. (PPP 17/5/41)

Others, like George Arden in the Port Phillip Gazette (who was highly critical of the ‘Dignity’ Ball) embraced the opportunities to do things differently in a new land:

In a new world as we may term Australia, one of the first and most important steps to greatness, is to shake off the prejudices that have so long fettered society in the father land, and in assigning any member his relative position with the mass, to be guided by character, either past or present. Birth and rank if inherited are enhanced by merit, without it these possessions are desecrated.( PPG 8/5/41)

Of course, a ball was a good opportunity to frock up with new clothes and Michael Cashmore the grocer was quick to capitalize on it as this advertisement from the Port Phillip Herald of 14 May shows:

Cashmore

And so how did it go? According to the Port Phillip Gazette

Her Majesty’s Birth Day was celebrated on Monday by a Public Ball held at Yarra House, which had been given up to the Stewards by the proprietor for the occasion.  The rooms, which are admirably adapted for a large party of this description, were arranged with every consideration to the comforts and convenience of the assembly.  The two drawing rooms were set apart for dancing, and the band being placed in the hall, enabled the votaries of Terpsichore to form separate sets in each room, whilst the suite of apartments in the left wing of the building was retained for cards.  The large room in the rear was appropriated to refreshments, which were supplied in the profusion throughout the whole evening. The unfavourable state of the weather precluded a great number from attending, especially those in the country; a dark night and the almost impassable state of the roads and streets, being sufficient to deter any but the most loyal from making the sacrifice necessary to evidence those feelings of respect to Her Majesty. Those, however, who set those considerations at nought, seemed to meet a recompense in the general hilarity of the assembly nor suffered their spirits to droop until the approach of morning warned them of the period for departure. (PPG 26/5/41)

The pastoralist-oriented  Port Phillip Herald, which was derisive of the spurious and jumped-up ‘respectability’ of the Stewards of the Public Ball, did not describe the Ball in its columns (probably because they didn’t attend). Instead, it reported on the appearance of some worse-for-wear attendees in the Police Court.  The writing style with short phrases joined together with a dash was often used by all three papers in writing comedy. Unfortunately, it’s one of those narrative styles that doesn’t travel across time well: perhaps you just had to be there.

POLICE  INTELLIGENCE John Berry, a confoundedly rakish-looking youth, whiskers awry; hair matted with damp and brickdust; neckerchief disorganized and out of set; waistcoat denuded of primitive virginity and spotted with negus; Newmarket green coat, rent to the collar; pantaloons, “a world too wide for his shrunk shanks”; speckled socks cased in patent leather; an astounding display of Mosaic jewellery; and a crushed hat and opera cane, was ushered to the bar, charged with retiring to rest that morning in one of the lakes opposite Yarra House.

Bench- Were you drunk?

Berry- To be sure I was; but permit me to elucidate. But first let me invoke (here he turned up his eyes to the ceiling and ejaculated in a falsetto voice) “Muse of the many twinkling fee Terpsichore”. Now for the elucidation. Last evening, in honor of Victoria I did forty-two shillings’ worth of Yarra House, and found it a bad bargain.  Remarkably grand display- lights glittered- eyes flashed- [?] twinkled- soft music- strong negus- foolish- stewards- Health to the Queen- three cheers- one for piccaninny-Caterer “John” slaughtered ham and beef – no poultry- plenty cigars- plenty “FANCY FAIR”- Mohawks from bush – hobnailed boots – [?infutine?] elegance- young elephant – Tartan – highly approved – blacklegs chucked – dice rattled – cards shuffled – Goat in boots – talked Bob Short – devil of uproar – lady insulted – insulter floored- black eyes- bloody noses – tumble down stairs – evaporated – talk of duel – no apology – all smoke – negus operating – dancing unsteady – dozens in corners – napping – kissing &c – all up – room, lights, fiddlers, twist round – bid adieu- there I am – damn that Charley, too bed – score worse – tipped Traps, did it snug- “that’s ALL”.

Having finished his harangue, he was ordered to pay 5s. which having complied with, this sample of the Birthday Ball mob flourished his cane and departed, vowing it to be the dearest two guineas’ worth he had ever purchased.

AND THE WEATHER?

Winter had really set in with gales and strong winds on 28th, 29th and 30th.  It rained on the 23rd (hence the wet roads on the night of the ball) and there were dense fogs on 24th, 25th and 26th.  The highest temperature for the period 22nd-31 May was 64 degrees (17C) and the lowest was 37 (2.7)

 

 

Missing in Action

Oh dear, my blog is falling apart.  I haven’t written a ‘This Week in Port Phillip 1841’ entry in weeks; I have half-finished reviews languishing in the ‘drafts’ folder for so long that I can barely remember the book and the 1000-post milestone came and went without fanfare.

Why? you may ask. This is why.

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After the last little doggie died we decided to replace the carpet. We had had four little doggies in the house and the little gentleman dog (who- believe me- was NO gentleman!) had made his presence smelt.  To replace the carpet, we had to move all the bookshelves and if we were going to do that then we may as well have the house painted at the same time.  And get new downlights.  And buy  new blinds to replace the verticals leading out to the deck. And clean the other curtains. And wash the windows properly. And buy a new couch.

My father, who lives in our back unit, is away on a cruise so it seemed an ideal time to  get all this done. So we’ve moved into Dad’s unit temporarily and piled up all our furniture and books in the rumpus room in the middle.

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Steve is looking a bit startled, working on his computer in the freezing cold, reflected in the dressing table mirror

And the cat is not impressed one little bit.

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I think I might join her, actually.

‘From Rice to Riches’ by Jane Hutcheon

Hutcheon

2003, 355 p

It’s odd how companionable one comes to feel with an ABC foreign correspondent who has been chatting to you from the television over many years. ‘Jane Hutcheon, ABC, Beijing’ sounds very familiar, as does ‘Barbara Miller, ABC, London’ or ‘Martin Cuddihy, ABC, Nairobi’ (and will I ever forgive my son for not introducing me to him when he was right there? Probably not.) I can remember feeling quite upset for Eric Campbell, seeing him so visibly distraught after the death of his camera man in Iraq in 2003.

Jane Hutcheon, with her cheeky smile, and respectful curiosity (on full display at the moment in her current program One Plus One) has long been one of my favourite foreign correspondents. I’ve been aware that this book was available some years ago, and I’m surprised (and rather disconcerted) to find that it was published thirteen years ago!

Jane was born and grew up in Hong Kong, the daughter of a Eurasian mother and an Anglo-Celtic father whose family had been involved in colonial trade in Asia since 1851. Both parents were journalists. As a young Asia Television (Hong Kong) reporter, she covered the handover of a captured Taiwanese China Airlines crew in 1986 and the first visit of a British sovereign to China later in 1986. By the mid 1990s she was the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s China Correspondent, covering the return of Hong Kong to China, the rise of Falun Gong and the Tenth Anniversary of the Tiananmen Massacre.

Her appointment as the China Correspondent for the ABC, then, combined personal and professional curiosity and in the early chapters of the book she combs over her family history ties as a way of integrating her own family story with the larger narrative of Chinese history from the mid 19th century on.  As she says near the end of the book:

When I went to China as a correspondent I hoped to discover what the essence of ‘being Chinese’ was all about, to understand why my ancestors had been drawn to its shores more than one hundred and fifty years ago…Though the world is now a different, much more convenient place, I tried to live the adventures of my ancestors.  Eventually, I began to love living in china for less deep-rooted reasons. It was like discovering a rare, antique carpet. The first time you look at it, it appears old and dusty. But after brushing off some of the dust, you notice amid the wear-and-tear the incredible colours that have stayed vibrant, despite the passage of time. After admiring the colours, you notice intricate patterns that tell a story about where the carpet was made, the life of its owner, and how it came to survive to the present day.  Soon, the carpet doesn’t look so old and dusty anymore; it becomes intriguing. (p. 354)

Hutcheon has organized her book by food: Pig’s Face, Slippery Noodles, Shanghai Stir-Fry. The names are a (very) little pun on the more serious theme of each chapter. For example, she deals with her own family history, the Opium Wars and the history of Hong Kong in her chapter ‘Colonial Chop Suey’. She deals with China’s strained relationship with both Taiwan and Tibet in the ‘Renegade Dumplings’. In ‘Spiritual Dim Sim’ she examines Christianity, the Zhao Tianjun temple, Falun Gong and Qigong, while the ‘Big River, Little Fish’ chapter deals with the Three Gorges Dam and its influence on the villagers who used to live on its boundaries.

Each chapter introduces us to many informants, just as an extended ‘Foreign Correspondent’ episode might do.  Interviewing people who have a different perspective to the ‘official’ line often involves deceit and disobedience,  and recent events with Peter Greste and the emergence of Reporters Without Borders and PEN remind us that writing and reporting can be dangerous in a way that might not have been so much the case in 2003.  She is often tailed by not-very-intelligent intelligence, and the Cultural Revolution and  Tienanmen Square are palpable presences in the background amongst her interview subjects.  She speaks to many people, and in this regard the book has the feeling of being an extended documentary feature, with people speaking their piece before the interviewer moves onto the next angle.  Fortunately, where she refers back to a character she has mentioned before, she explicitly names the chapter where the character previously appeared.   There’s also an index, a generous and unexpected feature in a book of this type.

Overwhelmingly, though, I found myself wishing that I was reading it thirteen months after it had been written rather than thirteen years later.  She foreshadows the insistence on ‘one China’ which is still asserted today and writes of the burgeoning and aspirational Chinese middle class that fueled the resources boom here in Australia in the decade after the book was published.  Less visible to her then was the military assertiveness of 21st century China, Muslim unrest in China in the context of a terrorist-nervous world, and the recent slowdown of growth in China that Australia seemed so blithely oblivious to.   None of this is Hutcheon’s fault, of course, but it does toss the ball back into my own court to find out what happened next.

aww2016 I have counted this towards my tally for the Australian Women Writers’ Challenge.

Movie: Labyrinth of Lies

I went to see this (just before it ended, as usual) largely on the strength of the positive review in received in The Age. I was a bit disappointed.  Based on the Frankfurt Auschwitz Trials, it is set in 1958 when other prosecutors refuse to take up charges against an ex-Nazi now working illegally at a school after ‘de-Nazification’.  A young prosecutor feels compelled to do so even though he is completely unaware of the pervasiveness and nature of Nazi atrocities. I guess that this is where I couldn’t suspend disbelief sufficiently, as 1958 post-dated the Nuremberg trials, and while I acknowledge wilful forgetting, I find innocent ignorance harder to believe.

Even if I am wrong about this- and I’m quite ready to acknowledge that I might be- I found the film very predictable. So predictable, in fact, that I was correctly anticipating lines of dialogue before they were delivered, and anticipated most of the plot-turns in advance.

So, no glowing review from me.  And now that I look, the Guardian didn’t think much of it either.