Showing posts with label Vuscovitch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vuscovitch. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 March 2014

William O'Toole - His Antic Disposition

William O'Toole and asylums, the reason for my trek into the wilds of Kingswood. And by the way, don't rely on Whereis.com for directions to NSW State Records Office. It hasn't a clue. Just go down the Great Western Highway until you get to the intersection with O'Connell St, turn left and follow the road around. There. Is that so difficult? Next time I need to go somewhere new I shall revert to my usual practice and use a map.

There is also the matter of closed and open files. Mental Health files in NSW are closed for 110 years. So I could publish the entirety of William's file prior to 1904 if I so desired, but anything after that is another matter. I may not mention the names of doctors or staff, I may not mention the names of other patients. I may not publish documents on a public space. I have to be circumspect in what I mention, reveal or discuss. Hopefully the last part of this post will not be too disjointed.
Mental Health is never straight forward, and the picture from William's files is incomplete, but there is enough to work out what was going on. William had been suffering from epilepsy from the age of 21. Initially it was just fits, but somewhere between 1879 (when they started) and 1891 that changed. He was fine when he wasn't fitting, but after each seizure he was violent, aggressive and manic. William also became very restless, roaming the streets and pacing wildly, often with Bible in hand. I don't know if the change was gradual or sudden. What I do know is that he was admitted to Callan Park Asylum on 2 Aug 1894 for "Epileptic Insanity". On admission he was violent and threatening, shouting, and claiming that he was speaking with the voice of God. Archer went with William and Emily to Callan Park and helped with the admission process and said that William had “been this way for hours”. William assaulted one of the doctors, pinching and kicking him and ejecting him from the room. He claimed he was subject to a miracle, his epilepsy was cured. This was not a desperate bid to be freed. He really did believe this.

Over the next few weeks he showed improvement and despite still fitting from time to time was not violent or threatening after seizures. The fitting effected his memory and made him "dull and stupid". At the "request of friends" he was discharged on 18 September 1894, against the better judgement of the doctors and, it later turned out, Emily's wishes. He was readmitted for assessment on 6 March 1896.

When I found the newspaper advertisement seeking a hairdresser for O'Toole Bros., dated 6 Oct 1894, I had initially thought it was just to replace Benjamin (whose story I WILL get to). Now I wonder if it was for another purpose as well. The ad is not for an assistant, but for a hairdresser. Had it been deemed wise for someone else to take over the whole scissors and cut-throat division of the business?

Sydney Morning Herald, 6 October 1894, p.16. From Trove

The files for what was to be William's lasting institutionalisation make up the vast bulk of his records. Basically, despite showing improvement in hospital, once out William deteriorated. He became more deranged and aggressive after fits and more easily agitated between them. Noise and movement were big triggers for him. Elsie was three when William was admitted this time. I cannot imagine how awful life must have been for Emily. She was living with a time bomb that could be triggered by their infant child merely behaving as children will.

I now have a better idea of the timetable for William's mental illness. There are police reports contained therein stating that William had been known to them in direct relation to his mental health for the five years previous to his 1896 admission. I quote directly:

"Wm Sinclair, Senior Constable NSW Police Force states: He has known patient for the last five years to be the subject of severe epileptic fits. He becomes abusive and quarrelsome without cause and on one occasion two policemen had to be left with him all night to prevent him from injuring his wife and child. After a fit he wanders from home and becomes violent"1.

The doctors at Callan Park listed William as being a danger to himself and others and likely to commit a criminal act. He was rambling and incoherent and again claiming to be the voice of God. His tongue and body were covered in scars caused by injury during seizures.

Anyone who has had to deal with mental illness, either directly or because of family members, will tell you that by the time police are involved there is a lot that has gone on at home, contained behind closed doors, often for years. Mental illness had an even bigger stigma attached to it back then than it does now, so everyone would have worked to keep things quiet, all the while with William's best interests at heart, including Emily. It would have been a heartbreaking decline and in the end it would have been a living hell for everyone, but especially for Emily and for William when he was lucid, and, my god, for Elsie. She was only a small child. It must have been terrifying for her.

So there was William in Callan Park. He was a danger, he did need containment. But he also needed treatment, which is where it got complicated. Believing himself to be cured, he saw no need for treatment. He often ignored doctors, and refused all medication. William firmly believed that he “is put away so that his wife may spend his money” and he was very suspicious of “everyone about him”. Prior to his certification on 20 March, 1896 he was having three to four seizures a day, some listed as severe2. He wrote long, rambling letters full of “incoherent statements and exclamations”. On 24 March 1896 William O'Toole was formally admitted as a patient at Callan Park and placed in Ward 4.

The family was split over what to do. Emily, understandably, wanted William kept where he was. She was the one on the front line, she had a child to think of, and I absolutely back her to the hilt. Annie, on the other hand, wanted her boy released. I think she was wrong, and so did the doctors, thank goodness. However, I can see it from her point of view. She had already lost two infant children, she had only recently nursed an adult son as he died a slow and hideous death, her first husband had died of disease in a far off place, and her second husband had gone into Callan Park, where William now was, and had come out, three weeks later, in a box. She must have been terrified for William. There is a letter in the file from Annie, requesting interviews with William's doctors, and notes between doctors discussing her interviews with them. On the reverse of Annie's letter is scribbled (as only doctors can) “I have seen Mrs Leake & explained to her that Mr O'Toole is not safe to be at large”. There is also a file note:

"On the first occasion, pressure was brought to bear on wife by his relations to induce her to take him out, which she did with much misgiving, after two months residence here.

His wife and mother appear not to agree very well and the old trouble is brewing again. They meet here occasionally and squabble over him in his presence.

Dr. Manning"3

As far as I can glean, Archer thought William was where he should be, but some others in the family were siding with Annie (I don't know whom). James wrote years later saying that there was still disagreement in the family over William's situation. Smart man, he requested, in writing, a final ruling so as to settle the matter for everyone concerned. The doctor patiently explained that William's release was highly unlikely and there was no more correspondence on the matter. I doubt that did really settle things, but it would have made further family discussion pointless, which is a resolution in its own way.

William struck a fellow patient on 31 March, but then settled down. The number of seizures went up and down. Sometimes he was agitated, sometimes quiet. But as the year wore on his condition worsened. On 26 November, 1896, William was sitting on a verandah at Callan Park. William was by this stage in a very bad way. He couldn't tolerate any noise, he was frequently violent to the other inmates and to the staff. He was suspicious of everyone and especially of Emily. There were other patients on the verandah that day, some sitting quietly, one sweeping, and amongst them Bartolomeo Vuskovitch.

The Kirkbride Complex at Callan Park, with verandah around. The smoke stack is for the laundry. Photo from Our Excursions blog by Kevin (http://sydneyexcursions.blogspot.com.au/2010/10/kirkbride-callan-park-2.html)
Vuskovitch was another manic and was pacing the verandah and muttering. William sat for a while and then suddenly jumped up, accusing the man of insulting him and grabbing the broom from the inmate who was sweeping. He hit Vuskovitch repeatedly with the broom and then tried to hit the staff member who had rushed over. William was subdued and placed in "seclusion" (I assume that means solitary confinement)4. Vuskovitch died as a result of his injuries on 4 December, 1896. An inquest deemed William guilty of wilful murder and on 8 December he was transferred to the Criminal Mental Hospital in Parramatta.

For the fortnight following the attack William was very agitated and “full of religious delusions”. He showed no remorse for his actions, stating that Vuskovitch was no longer dead as he (William) had seen and heard him, and anyway, William himself had been dead and was raised again by the Lord. He was also annoyed that he was not being taken to the gallows as it would have been a perfect opportunity to deliver a sermon on truth. He also believed it was “God's wish for him to put Vuskovitch out of his trouble”, and claimed he saw visions, including one on the parable of the fig tree5. He frequently smiled while discussing his attack on Vuskovitch6

By January 1897 William had settled down. He was very quiet. Emily visited regularly and William "anticipates her visits with pleasure". The seizures had for the time being lessened, but by October of that year they were increasing in frequency and William was again being described as abusive and dangerous.

Over the years Emily ceased to visit, as did many others in the family. Eventually his youngest brother, James, was the only regular visitor, and William wrote a directive in 1911 asking that his title deeds and his Bible be given to James. He didn't have control over any deeds but his letters in the files are often filled with delusions. Some are very hard to follow. In 1917 William was transferred to the free part of Parramatta, as it was recognised that he would never be fit to stand trial. Some of the entries after this state that he was single. The hospital records show him to be married, so I am guessing that these errors were made by staff who thought he must be thus because of Emily's absence. I in no way blame her or any of the O'Toole boys for this. William was frequently aggressive, threatening, violent, suspicious. He is described more than once as "untrustworthy", although without explanation of how or why (I don't doubt it, I am just curious). If you go to visit someone in this situation, you are subjected to rants, accusations, shouting, threats, and demands and/or begging to be released. I admire James for his ability to keep visiting. William was 37 when he went in the final time and 61 when he died. No wonder Emily stopped going. It would have been absolutely heartbreaking.

William went up and down. There were times when he was quiet, times when he was violent. He always refused to do any work and was very easily upset. At one point his tibea was fractured in a scuffle caused by another inmate offering him some bread (William threw a basin at him in response and then it was on for young and old). There are mad letters, difficult to follow, some short, some going on for pages. The sentences are often incomplete and William jumps from one subject to another, but the ghist is always the same – he is cured of his epilepsy, he needs to be released. In one letter, William offered the superintendant £5 along with an assurance to forgive and forget all he had visited on William.

In 1917 there was another assessment made of William's state and on 26 March it was decided that there would be no further proceedings against him. He had been in the hospital for 20 years and was still insane, so the prosecution for Vuskovitch's death was dropped. This must have caused anguish for Vuskovitch's family, but William was never going to be fit to stand trial. William was transferred to the free part of the Parramatta Hospital.

Parramatta Hospital for the Insane, c 1900 NRS 5598. NSW State Records

Over the next two years William's fits grew increasingly severe and his ability to recover from them grew less and less. He was clearly going downhill.

1919 was not a good year in New South Wales. The Great War had ended and soldiers were coming home to their families, but they brought with them the Spanish flu. The resulting epidemic killed about 6000 people in this state alone. In some areas the flu accounted for half of all deaths7. Parramatta Hospital was not immune. The flu raged through the wards, keeping doctors working around the clock. In the midst of all this, on the night of 26 June, 1919, William had yet another seizure. He was found dead about 8pm, his body on his bed, his head resting on his left elbow on the floor. His bed did not have a bedstead “for purpose of security”. There were no signs of foul play, no marks, no obstruction to his airways. The doctor who was called to William's room (from the influenza ward) suspected heart failure “at the beginning of an epileptic seizure”. He referred the matter to the Coroner. There was no post mortem and the Coroner decided against an inquest.

John O'Toole signed for the body of his brother, directing it to be given to Francis Morris and Company, Parramatta, for burial in Rookwood Necropolis, while James wrote to the Hospital asking for full details of William's death. William was buried next to his mother. There is no headstone on William's grave, although there is a lot of space on Annie's, so I wonder if the plan was to eventually put William's details there.

After William died, it took nine months for the Asylum to confirm his death in writing to Emily. She was by this time in the Church of England Home in Glebe Point (on Forsyth street. It is now a block of flats). There is a note on file, dated 9 September, 1913, listing the addresses of Emily and Elsie. Emily was at that time "C/- Mrs Grainger, Parramatta Road, Ryde" and Elsie was "C/- Mrs. James Killian, Manly" (ie, Fanny ni Butler, Emily's sister). The asylum sent a telegram to Emily care of Mrs Grainger and then left the matter. The doctor when he wrote to Emily explained about the flu epidemic and said that that was probably why he hadn't thought to chase the matter up. The poor woman found out because the Matron of the hospital rang the Asylum at Emily's request in March 1920 to find out how William was.

There are so many questions raised by this. I cannot work out why none of the O'Tooles had told her. Had they lost touch? Had they lost track? Was it deliberate? Was it accidental? Why was Emily in a Home with a Matron? Why had she not enquired after William for nine months? Why had Elsie and Fanny not told her? Had they been informed? Why was Elsie living with Fanny in 1913, rather than with Emily? Had the O'Tooles “given up” on her because she had “given up” on William? More questions than answers, and I doubt now that I will ever get to the bottom of this.

And it gets worse. While writing this last part I have realised that Emily died in Newington State Hospital, described in State Records as an “Asylum for the Destitute and Infirm”. So I shall be requesting permission to look at her files. At least I have proven my relationship to her, so it shouldn't take long. Why did everyone abandon Emily?

Elsie married Clifford Atkinson in Marrickville on 12 February, 1916. They had one child that I so far know of – William James Atkinson, born on 14 August, 1922 and named for Elsie's father and for the uncle who never gave up on him.


1  3/3339 no.3590 – 62 William O'Toole medical file. NSW State Records, accessed 1 March 2014

2 11/2160 Darlinghurst Medical Case Book no. 88, William O'Toole, 6 March 1896. NSW State Records, accessed 1 March 2014

3  3/3339 no.3590 – 62 William O'Toole medical file. NSW State Records, accessed 1 March 2014

4  3/7047 Medical Journal – confinement register. 26 November 1896 – 4 December 1896. NSW State Records, accessed 1 March 2014

5  Whether this is the parable of the budding fig tree (Luke 21:29-33, amongst others) or the barren fig tree (Luke 13:6-9) is not stated.

6  Medical Certificate to accompany Order or Request for Reception into an Hospital for the Insane or Licensed House, William O'Toole, 8 December 1896, conatined in 12/825 no.6643, Case Papers, Parramatta Hospital, from December 1896, NSW State Records, accessed 1 March, 2014


7  “Influenza Epidemic of 1919”, Online Museum and Archive, Sydney Medical School, the University of Sydney, 2014 (http://sydney.edu.au/medicine/museum/mwmuseum/index.php/Influenza_Epidemic_of_1919) accessed 23 March 2014

Thursday, 27 February 2014

Set sail for adventure

Okay, my kids will groan and tell me this is pathetic (at least, the teenager will, the younger one will just look at me like I have finally lost my mind), but I am off on an adventure.
Airship Pirates RPG cover. Image owned by Abney Park
No, not that kind (although I wish it was. I hope that one day soon it will be, although there may not be airships involved - sigh) - a genealogical research adventure.

I wrote last year about my great great uncle William O'Toole, the hairdresser and tobacconist who ended up in Callan Park Mental Hospital and then died in Parramatta Mental Hospital. Well, I have applied to look at his files. Gosh, that sounds simple, but it was an exercise in itself. You see, there are strict rules governing mental health records in NSW, as there should be. For starters, the files are closed for 110 years. That's okay for the first part of William's institutionalisation (he was admitted in 1895) but not for the last part (he died in Parramatta in 1919). So, if I wanted to look at the whole record set I had to ask for permission.

A phone call to State Archives at Kingswood set the ball in motion. The very helpful gentleman I spoke to told me who to contact at Western Sydney Local Health District, which holds the records for Parramatta Mental Hospital. He also told me that William was likely to have been transferred to Parramatta soon after killing Bartolomeo Vuscovitch as Parramatta housed the criminally insane. He also told me that when I got written permission, I would need to give the Archive five days' notice so they could extract the records for William while ensuring I would not see anyone else's.

So I rang Western Sydney Local Health District and spoke to a lovely lady named Margot Gover. Now it started to get complicated. Requesting permission was not enough. I had to prove my relationship to the patient and supply a copy of his death certificate. Fortunately I already had that. The question arises of what proves my relationship. Have I enough hard evidence in my files to satisfy a government department? If this doesn't test the veracity of my genealogical research I don't know what will.

A letter was carefully composed stating my request and outlining the salient details of William's life. Attached were copies of:

William's death certificate
William's birth certificate
John O'Tooles birth and death certificates (my great grandfather and William's younger brother)
My grandfather's birth and death certificates with a statement that he was my maternal grandfather
Lastly a family group record for Laurence O'Toole and Anne Groves ni Leonard (you should know who they are by now)

All posted off in a fat envelope.

Then I waited.

Finally, a couple of weeks ago, it was my turn to receive a fat envelope. Permission granted. I have to bring the two enclosed letters to the Archive, along with identification to prove who I am. They attached copies of all the documents I had sent, so I suppose I will bring those along too, just in case.

Monday of last week I contacted State Archives. Oh yes, I was told, contact us Friday if you haven't heard from us. We are open weekends if that suits for visiting. We'll get on to it.

To be honest, my greatest fear with all this has been that there will be nothing, or very little, in the file. A couple of entries in a book, a few slips of paper, little if anything beyond what I have gleaned from the papers.

Friday strolled around so I rang back. "We are still going. We keep finding more". We started talking about William. It turned out that the records stopped almost mid sentence with the words "transferred to free wing". Was that in 1917? I asked. Yes. So I told the beautifully efficient staffer that that was when William was deemed never fit to stand trial. She got quite excited, set on a new trail. I was told that I would be rung when it was all ferretted out, and apologised to for the delay. Apologised to - because it was taking longer due to sheer volume. I don't think an apology was needed, do you?

And then this week I got a call from the lovely staffer. Everything has been found, here are instructions, when can you come? We have never seen a file this size, there is a lot to go through. be warned, mental health records can be hard going (I know that, oh god I know that).

I am going down on Saturday, and my staffer will be on duty that day. She is so pleased to be the one to guide me, which makes me pleased too. Every adventurer needs a guide.

When I return from the wilds of darkest Kingswood I shall regale you with tales of my discoveries, or at least write a modest blog post.

Indiana Jones, eat your heart out.

Thursday, 24 October 2013

Tobacco and Madness - William O'Toole

The next few posts will be a bit sketchy. I apologise in advance. There are lots of documents I still need to get for the O'Toole family - Christmas and birthdays are my times for getting birth, death and marriage certificates, and I am researching more than just the O'Toole line so those are a bit sparse at the moment (Christmas will fix that) and I need to make time to go to State Records - made so much harder now that our incredibly short-sighted NSW Government has closed the Reading Room in The Rocks. Mind you, they don't value our future, so why do we expect them to value our past?

So what I have on the sons of Laurence and Ann will be what I have gleaned from family, newspapers and some research at Wyong Family History Group. But it will get the basic facts out and hopefully clear up some of the confusion between this family and the Tobias O'Toole family (they are the other O'Toole family in Sydney in the C19th - see Which O'Toole is Which).

I will deal with Matthew Joseph Anthony when I have done his half-brothers, simply because I have so very, very little on him. He seems to have led a quiet life. Isabella's short little life was dealt with in Vale Isabella O'Toole. I hope her two years were happy ones. Which brings us to the next child born to Laurence and Ann - William.

William was born in 1858 in 102 Kent Street, the house from which his sister ran and was crushed by the dray.

The family moved from The Rocks to Balmain in 1880 and William started O'Toole Brothers, Tobacconists and Hairdressers sometime between 1880 and 1884. The shop was situated at 273 Darling Street, between MacDonald and Mort Street. It is now occupied by Blooms the Chemist.

Blooms the Chemist, Darling Street, Balmain, originally O'Toole Bros. Tobacconists and Hairdressers. Photo from personal collection of Megan Hitchens.
On 14 April 1884, William came to open the shop and found that it had been burgled1. Goods to the value of £3 were taken. I don't know if they were recovered.

On a happier note, 1884 was also the year that William married. He had met a young woman named Emily Butler. She lived in Cove-street, Balmain, with her mother, Frances ni Rainy, and stepfather, George Henry. Her brother and William's father, Laurence, were both members of the Naval Brigade (forerunner of the Naval Reserve). Whether William and Emily met through proximity or through the Naval Brigade I don't know, but meet they did.

Emily was the daughter of Lawrence Ormond Butler and Frances Rainy, and the granddaughter of Irish exile, Lawrence Ormond Butler. For an excellent history of the Butler family go to Barbara Butler's series of blogs - http://butlerfamilyhistoryaus1.blogspot.com.au/2012/09/lawrence-butler-jnr-introduction.html . The link will take you to Emily's father's story, but if you work your way around you will also find the posts on her grandfather and his wives and children. Barbara's blog shows us how family genealogy blogs should be done. Outstanding research, impeccable source citations, clear and engaging writing. Seriously, go and have a look.

Just to demonstrate the confusion with the O'Toole families of Sydney, William O'Toole, son of Laurence O'Toole, married Emily Butler in 1884 in Balmain2, while William O'Toole, son of Tobias O'Toole, married Emily Pulbrook in 1884 in Pyrmont3. And to further complicate matters, my William O'Toole's brother, Thomas, married Emily Donohue in Balmain in 1892. So there were three Emily O'Tooles running around (or should that be Emilies O'Toole? Take your pick).

As far as I can tell, William and Emily had only one child – Elsie May O'Toole, born 14 January 1893, above the shop in Darling Street, Balmain4. Until two nights ago I thought there were four children, but I have since applied my brain and realised that three of those four were born to Pyrmont William and Emily ni Pulbrook.

My William's next brother down, Archer, ran the Balmain Leader, a weekly newspaper for the Balmain area. Their younger brother, John, also worked as a journalist for the Leader. In January of 1888 a small piece appeared in the Balmain Leader, ribbing William. There is no way to tell who wrote it, Archer or John, but I am sure it was the work of one of the brothers. It has a joke at William's expense but also reveals something of his character:
Burglaries in Balmain
BY OUR OWN DETECTIVE
During the week, another of a series of petty larcenies which have lately occurred in the borough has been reported to the local police. A worthy citizen whose good wife is all anxiety for her spouse's cleanliness and comfort industriously soused a pair of William's pantaloons and placing them conspicuously beneath Sol's drying influence felt satisfied of having achieved a master-piece of tidiness in the way of spotless breeches for her good man's acceptance on the following morning. But the Fates willed otherwise. During the night, it is supposed the gang of predatory individuals who invest our sea-girt suburb swooped down on the quiet home of Wm. O---- and marched off with his nether garments. But this writer would point out that a fierce gale passed over the village on that night – and it chanced to be----
----Their washing day
And all the things were drying;
The storm went roaring thro' the lines,
And set them all a flying;
Until both shirts and petticoats
Went riding off like witches;
Bill lost – and now is left to mourn -
His well washed working breeches.
And instead of being stolen as supposed, were he about he might have seen them:-
----Straddling thro' the air,
Of course too late to win them;
They were his darlings and his pride
His manhood's help to riches,
Mentally he “farewell” cried,
“My breeches.” “Oh my breeches.”
Could he now see them e'en in dreams,
How changed from what he knew them!
The dews have steeped their faded threads,
The winds have whistled thro' them.
He could see wide and ghastly rents
Where demon claws had torn them;
With large holes in their amplest part,
As if an imp had worn them.
The Sydney Morning Herald reported on a spate of thefts in the Balmain area leading up to the loss of the trousers. People had had shoes, trousers, pipes and shirts stolen, so William was not so unreasonable in his assumption. Clearly, however, his brothers thought he had taken things a little too far.

Then, on 16 July 1888, William and Emily's house was broken into and some of Emily' jewellery stolen. From the description of the items in the Police Gazette, William and Emily were doing quite well. The items stolen were “Lady's gold hunting keyless watch; hair guard, mounted with gold; pair gold ear-rings; pair gold ear-rings, set with a sapphire and four or five white stones; gold ear-ring, oval shape; gold ear-ring, set with a diamond”5. Again I don't know if anything was recovered.

But the thieves weren't finished with Mr. O'Toole. On 3 February 1891, Robert Johnson, a hairdresser employed by William, arrived to open the shop for the day. He found that the shop had been burgled and that a rear window had been forced. A tobacconist and hairdresser from Woolloomooloo, John Latimer, was later seen hanging around6. Stolen were “a case and a half of tobacco, 19 boxes of cigars, 10 boxes of cigarettes, 10 razors, 8 meerschaum pipes, 3 dozen meerschaum cigarette-holders, 3 block pipes, a box of tobacco, and 3s in copper money, the whole being valued at about £51”7. In other terms that 1700 cigars, 5200 cigarettes and a bit over 48kg of tobacco.

A meerschaum cigarette holder in case, image from Wikipedia Commons. Meerschaum is a soft mineral which hardens when warmed. It has long been a prized material for pipes.
Two days later William accompanied Detectives Roach and Goulder to John Latimer's shop, where William positively identified his tobacco (he had put his name on the bottom of the blocks) and other items. Latimer claimed first that William couldn't identify tobacco (the name was pointed out), then that he had bought everything from some reputable dealers, then that he had been sold it all by a couple of men he had met “in the stir”. Lastly, he took the search warrant from Detective Roach, tore it up and threw the pieces away (Roach collected them)8. Latimer was arrested and charged with “burglariously breaking and entering...and stealing”. The case went on for several weeks with a number of adjournments, with William required to give evidence. On 12 March, Latimer was found guilty of receiving and on 20 March 1891 he was sentenced to three years hard labour at Darlinghurst Goal9.

It was stated in a number of the newspaper reports on the burglary that William O'Toole did not live on his shop premises. However, by the time his daughter was born in January of 1893, he and Emily were living there. Clearly William had felt the need to safeguard the place.

The shop was called O'Toole Brothers and while William seems to have been the main proprietor his brothers had a financial interest in the business and some of them worked there. John certainly did work there are one point, and Benjamin was employed as a hairdresser. Thomas had had an interest until his finances went awry. I don't know about Archer, Laurence and James, although I suspect so. Another thing to add to a long list of records to check at NSW State Archives.

On 6 October 1894 William placed an advertisement in the Sydney Morning Herald for a hairdresser “at once, good hand, no other need apply”10. His young brother, Benjamin, was in the late stages of a terminal illness (he died less than a month later). It seems William had finally accepted that Benjamin could not come back and so was looking for a replacement.

Then there was another notice in the paper:
TO HAIRDRESSERS, TOBACCONISTS, and PARTIES on the LOOK-OUT for a FIRST-CLASS BUSINESS.
THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME.
THIS DAY, THURSDAY, October 10, at 11 o'clock. UNDER INSTRUCTIONS FROM W. O'TOOLE, HAIRDRESSER and TOBACCONIST, THE STRAND, DARLING-STREET, BALMAIN. CLEARANCE SALE by PUBLIC AUCTION, ON THE ABOVE DATE.
The whole of the very extensive Stock of a TOBACCONIST and HAIRDRESSER, consisting of SHOP AND COUNTER FITTINGS, SPLENDID NICKEL-PLATED COUNTER SHOW-CASE, large Stock of PIPES, TOBACCO, and CIGARETTES, BARBER'S CHAIRS, MIRRORS, &c., &c.
JAMES COWAN (266 Pitt-street) has been favoured with instructions to conduct the above highly important sale.
The Auctioneer specially invites purchasers to attend this important sale, as this is a splendid opportunity to secure one of the best businesses in this rising suburb.
The present proprietor has been established 15 years, and is only giving up business owing to ill-health.
The whole of the STOCK and FIXTURES will be offered in one line, and if not disposed of will then be sold in lots to suit buyers.
TERMS, CASH, NO RESERVE
Sydney Morning Herald, 10 October 1895, page 3
Initially I thought this meant that William was physically ill and therefore could not continue to work. However, earlier this year I started searching the Police Gazettes for entries regarding William's burglaries and discovered the real nature of his illness.

Sometime around the time of the Auction, William was admitted to Callan Park Mental Hospital. State Records has the admission records and medical casebooks, so yet another thing to look for (I swear, I am going to need a week in that place). Until then I don't know why he was in there. Suddenly his stress over the loss of his trousers doesn't seem quite so amusing, although in defense of his brothers I have grown up with a family member with mental health issues and as a sibling you take your laughs where you can get them.

William's sale of the business and his admission to the Hospital must have been a big change for Emily and Elsie. They seem to have been quite comfortable up to that point. Hopefully they got enough from the sale to see them through the times ahead. But worse was to come.
In the 9 December 1896 edition of the Police Gazette, on page 43111 appeared the small notice:

The Police Gazette, 9 December 1896, p431, collection of State Records Authority of New South Wales

At the time of the inquest the matter was widely reported in the newspapers in Sydney and beyond. William remained in Callan Park, pending trial until 1917. On 28 March the Gazette reported that the matter had finally been settled12, although probably to the satisfaction of few:

The Police Gazette, 28 March 1917 p143, collection of State Records Authority of New South Wales

William O'Toole died in Pattamatta Mental Hospital in June of 1919. He is buried in Rookwood Cemetery, section 4 of the Anglican area, grave no. 4375, next to his mother. There is no surviving headstone. Emily survived another 10 years, dying on 5 October, 1929. She is buried in Section 10 of the Anglican area of Rookwood,  in grave no. 3039. Again there is no surviving headstone. The woman in the Anglican office in Rookwood told me that where Emily was buried was considered to be a poor part of the cemetery, although not destitute. I don't know why they weren't buried together.

There is nothing I can say of this couple's end that won't sound trite, so I will comment no further.

1 State Records Authority of New South Wales, "Police Gazettes 1854-1930," database, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 11 Jul 2013), William O'Toole burglary 1884; citing State Records Authority of New South Wales; Police Gazettes 1862-1930; Roll: 3138; Year: 1884; Page: 166.
2 New South Wales Government, "BDM Index," database(http://www.bdm.nsw.gov.au : accessed 10 Oct 2012), etnry for marriage of William O'Toole and Emily Butler in 1884. (NSW BDM Marriage Certificate 2095/1884)
3NSW BDM Marriage Certificate 1676/1884
4 "Births, Deaths and Marriages," The Sydney Morning Herald (New South Wales), 6 Feb 1893, p. 8, col. 5; digital images, Trove (trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 27 Aug 2012), Digitised newspapars and more.
5 State Records Authority of New South Wales, "Police Gazettes 1854-1930," database, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 11 Jul 2013), William O'Toole theft 1888; citing State Records Authority of New South Wales; Police Gazettes 1862-1930; Roll: 3139; Year: 1888; Page: 256.
6 "Charge of Breaking and Entering," The Sydney Morning Herald (New South Wales), 14 Feb 1891, p. 13, col. 4; digital images, Trove - Digitised newspapers and more (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 20 Oct 2013).
7 "Burglary at Balmain," The Evening News (New South Wales), 6 Feb 1891, p. 2, col. 2; digital images, Trove (trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 27 Aug 2012), Digitised newspapars and more.
8 "Alleged Breaking and Entering," The Sydney Morning Herald (New South Wales), 13 Feb 1891, p. 3, col. 5; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gove.au : accessed 5 Nov 2012), Digitised newspapers and more
9 "Yesterday's Brevities," The Evening News (New South Wales), 21 March 1891, p. 6, col. 1; digital images, Trove (trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 20 Oct 2013), Digitised newspapars and more.
10 “Professions, Trades, &c.” The Sydney Morning Herald (New South Wales), 6 Oct 1894, p.16, col. 6; digital images, Trove (trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 28 Aug 2012), Digitised newspapars and more.
11 State Records Authority of New South Wales, "Police Gazettes 1854-1930," database, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 11 Jul 2013), William O'Toole, Murder, 9 Dec 1896 p431
12 State Records Authority of New South Wales, "Police Gazettes 1854-1930," database, Ancestry.com (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 11 Jul 2013), William O'Toole, Murder, 28 Mar 1917 p143.