Rum and Raisings - James Slater and the Rum Corps

I know a few of you are waiting for me to write about John O'Toole and his marriage to Mary Marcella Hall. I will get to that, but I am waiting on a certificate (isn't it always the way?). In the meantime here is another chapter in the varied life of Mary Marcella Hall's great grandfather, James Slater.

How much have we heard lately about the Rum Corps? Everytime there's a mention of Eddie Obeid or Chris Hartcher, the Corps gets brought up - "The most corrupt public figure since the Rum Corps" (um, actually I think that dubious honour goes to Robert Askin - he died with all his corrupt dealings unpunished and his ill-gotten gains intact. At least this lot are being pursued), "nothing like it since the days of the Rum Corps" and so on.

Redcoats at Old Sydney Town. Image from Wikimedia Commons

Yes, things are bad. Many of our politicians are little more than self-serving, greedy, manipulative pigs who treat the public (their BOSSES, which they seem to have forgotten) with utter contempt. I'd love a federal ICAC, but both LNP and Labor have yet again blocked that (ask youself why, what are they trying to hide).

But are things really as bad as the days of the Rum Corps? Look into it a little and you may find that the answer is no¹.

Why no? We have ICAC, which has been fearless, and the judiciary has remained separate from the corrupt operators. That was not the case with the Rum Corps.

Some things are the same. There are brave, hard-working journalists doing all they can now, such as Kate McClymont of the Sydney Morning Herald, and there were brave, hard-working journalists then, too. They did all they could to expose the dealings of that ruthless bunch of jumped-up bully-boys.

So let's start with what the Rum Corps actually was. First off, it was the New South Wales Corps. It was given the nickname Rum corps when it gained a monopoly on trade goods coming into the colony (the most popular means of payment for goods was rum). The NSW Corps was sent out with the Second Fleet to replace the Royal Marines. It was to be the permanent military force in the Colony and subject to the rule of the Governor. It was not made of the best the English army had to offer. Some members had been in military jails, or were known troublemakers. Many had been in occupations displaced by the industrial revolution and had joined the army as a last resort². When Governor Phillip left the Colony to return to England there was a power vacuum, and Grose, head of the NSW Corps, filled it. He gave large land grants to officers, and assigned them convicts to work the land, paid for on the public purse. This was then extended to other Corps members. Produce from the farms was sold to the government at a steep profit. Grose ensured the Corps had a monopoly on Rum importation and on Rum distillation, and a general monopoly on trade³. During 1793 there was a drought and a resultant shortage of grain. Rather than ensure a good supply to the populace, much of the grain was held back for distillation. At one point John Macarthur was Colonial Secretary, which meant that the man with the largest trade capacity in the colony was also in charge of government business and trade. As Max Gillies once said, not so much a conflict of interest as a confluence.

All this sounds fairly familiar – those in power granting favours and control of money-making enterprises to friends and colleagues. It's not that different to all the murk surrounding Cascade Coal or AWH. But Grose went further. He suspended the civil courts and set up military rule, giving judicial appointments to Corps officers and friends, such as John Macarthur.

Francis Grose. Image from Wikimedia Commons

The Corps enjoyed the exercise of power and stymied the efforts of two subsequent governors, Hunter and King, to bring them to heel. Then Bligh came along, who immediately set about reining them in. He took strong measures to give relief to the settlers on the Hawkesbury (who were struggling after a flood) and acted to end the monopolies of the Corps and Macarthur (Macarthur had been using the supply problems from the Hawkesbury as a means of raising prices on some commodoties, such as sheep). Bligh was something of a bull in a china-shop, and a known authoritarian, but it was the threat to vested interests that caused the Great Rebellion⁴. Forget the rewritings of history that have since taken place - it was not a blow for democracy or the overthrow of a scoundrel and dictator. And Bligh did not hide under a bed – that story came from the colony's first political cartoon, commissioned or drawn by Sergeant Major Whittle of the Corps within hours of Bligh's arrest. It is probable that Bligh was actually trying to escape from Government House to join the settlers on the Hawkesbury⁵.

Macquarie, the next governor after Bligh, was able to restore some order and stabilise the currency by bringing in the holy dollar and dump, but it took time to truly break the corrupting influence of the Corps in New South Wales. The problems with the judiciary continued for many years, well into the rule of Governor Darling. Those who had risen to the top in the bad old days remained firmly entrenched.

What's the big deal about the Rum Corps and the judiciary? Well, just imagine if ICAC was headed by Ian McDonald, or Joe Tripodi, or Arthur Sinodinos. What if Chris Hartcher could pass judgement on his case if it comes to court, or could sit in judgement on Darren Webber or Nick di Girolamo? This is the situation that existed in New South Wales in the early part of the 19^th Century.

And James Slater got caught up in it.

The Monitor was a Sydney newspaper that only operated between 1826 and 1828 but in those two years it fiercely targetted the misuse of judicial power. There were numerous reports, including the appalling case of a convict shepherd complaining to his master of insufficient rations and being sentenced by his master, a magistrate, to 500 lashes. In another case, a man was imprisoned for fourteen weeks without formal charge for insulting a clergyman-magistrate before finally being released⁶. James' problems were mild by comparison.

In the early months of 1828, James was ordered by a local magistrate, G. Innes, to put up his servants when they were in Sydney (Innes had moved out to Bathurst, but sent his convict servants up to Sydney to complete some business for him). The servants stayed with James in his Pitt Street residence for a number of days and James then duly presented Mr. Innes with an invoice for expenses incurred, amounting to £4 15s 6p. Innes' response was to issue a summons for “harbouring prisoners of the crown”⁷. The Monitor continues:

But it didn't end there. James had had enough of corrupt lawyers and corrupt judges (he's the one I think was framed to get him out to NSW), and what's more he was literate and smart. James got a counter summons issued against Innes, but was told there was insufficient evidence that the money was actually owed. He approached the Solicitor General, Commissioner Foster and asked how to proceed. Foster told him to get affidavits from Innes' servants, which he did. On 5 June 1828, James appeared before Commissioner Foster and presented the affidavits which Foster refused to receive. Moreover, Foster dismissed the suit. James asked for an adjournment of ten minutes so he could fetch a witness. This was also refused⁸. They all back each other up.

As far as I can tell, James Slater had little option but to give up. He was owed over £4 and had incurred at least another £1 in legal expenses, but there was little he could do. The corrupt establishment in New South Wales had well and truly won. I am sure James would have loved an ICAC.

1Don't think for a minute I do not believe things are bad. There is no denying the corruption, calumny and fraud that is coming out in ICAC and that many of us were fairly certain was going on before that. Just ask anyone living on the Central Coast how much they thought was being spent on the election campaigns of the three Liberal candidates. There were unhappy mutterings well before the 2011 election.

2“So... What Was the Rum Corps?” Linda Mottram interviews Paul Burton of State Library of NSW, ABC 702, 13 November 2012, http://blogs.abc.net.au/nsw/2012/11/so-what-was-the-rum-corps.html

3The 1808 'Rum Rebellion', State Library of New South Wales, http://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/discover_collections/history_nation/terra_australis/rebellion/index.html

4 In the 1850s William Howitt wrote a history of Australia. Howitt was a Temperance man and keen to paint alcohol as the cause of all Australia's woes, hence the appellation of the Rum Rebellion (prior to Howitt that event was known as the Great Rebellion).

5http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rum_Rebellion

6 “To the Editor”, The Monitor, 28 June 1828, p. 5, col. 3; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 5 Nov 2012), Digitised newspapers and more

7 “Domestice Intelligence”, The Monitor, 17 May 1828, p. 8, col. 1; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 23 Feb 2013), Digitised newspapers and more

8“To the Editor”, The Monitor, 7 June 1828, p. 5, col. 3; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 23 Feb 2013), Digitised newspapers and more

The Death's in the Mail

It's Mother's Day today. And I got the usual question from my spouse, "What would you like?", which is better than happens to my sister. Her spouse likes to surprise her. She says some of the surprises are still in their boxes.

So what do I like for Mother's Day? Or birthday or Christmas for that matter?

Simple - death certificates.

My idea of an exciting gift. Yes. I know. I am weird.

Oh, sometimes I mix it up and get birth certificates, or marriage certificates. But this year it has been, yet again, death certificates.

Death certificates can be problematic. The person who fills them in doesn't always get it right, sometimes the person filling in the certificate doesn't really know the deceased. This is particularly the case with older certificates. In the past, death certificates had to be filled out by the head of the household in which the deceased died. This isn't too bad if the deceased was at home, or in the home of offspring or siblings, but what if they were visiting someone? What if that someone just thought they knew about the friend's parents, birthplace, etc? What if there was no one for the friend to ask?

If someone died in hospital it got even worse. Then it was up to the doctor to fill in the certificate, and he may or may not know and may or may not listen. If you want to see the mess that a doctor could make, have a look at my post about Laurence O'Toole.

Sometimes people deliberately lie on death certificates. They see it as an opportunity to rewrite history, for whatever reason. James Leake did this on Annie Leonard's death certificate, and I know that he knew the truth, because he knew Annie's previous husband, he knew all her children, but he chose instead to try to write Laurence O'Toole out of the family history. I'd love to know why he did this, but I guess I never will.

And then, as I have written before, there is the difference between the UK and Australia. Australia wanted a LOT more information than the UK. We don't realise how spoilt we are until we try to order a certificate from Great Britain. You can read more about this in my post on the death of George Valentine Leonard.

Even working out which is the correct person can be problematic. I was supposed to get two death certificates, but I am only getting one - for Emily O'Toole  ni Butler (it didn't arrive in time, c'est la vie). I wanted the certificate of Annie's mother, Ann Leonard ni Allen. All I get to help me choose is the name, age (if I'm lucky) and district. Nothing else. Look at NSW BMD and it is a different story. You get mother and father's names as well. That little bit extra is a huge help (providing it is filled in. Usually it is, but not always, and not always correctly, so you still have to be careful).

So I looked for Ann Leonard. There are three possibilities. But the women all have similar birth years (worked out from the ages) and they are all three in the right part of London. It will take a while to work out which one is my Ann Leonard. But when I do it will be Mother's Day all over again.

In the meantime, each to their own. I hope you had a great Mother's Day, or you helped someone else have a great Mother's Day. Me, I've got mine coming in the mail.

ANZAC Stories - William James Atkinson

This post may feel a little odd, a little dry - facts and figures and not much else. Just about all the information from it has been taken from a WWII service record. It took some time to decipher all the acronyms and abbreviations and to then work out where the different training camps and postings were. One thing that comes through loud and clear is the huge investment in time and teaching that went into creating a fighter pilot. Months and months, and they were doing well to last six to eight weeks once they got operational. William Atkinson lasted six months.

William James Atkinson was born on 14 August 1922 to Clifford C. Atkinson and Elsie May ni O'Toole (the daughter of William O'Toole and Emily ni Butler, if you are trying to work out a connection). He grew up in Cremorne on Sydney's lower North Shore and attended North Sydney Boys' High School from 1934 to 1938. He studied English, Maths I & II, Geography, French, Elementary Science, Latin and History for his Intermediate certificate and achieved a first-class pass in Maths I and Geography. William went on to his Leaving Certificate, continuing the English, both Maths, Geography and French and adding Chemistry and Economics.

On graduation, William went to work for the National Bank of Australasia (now the NAB). He was a teller's clerk in the North George Street branch in the city.

In late 1940, aged 18, William enlisted, joining the 1st Machine Gun Regiment. He was stationed in Newcastle, patrolling the northern beaches, but by August of 1941 he had decided he wanted something more. He applied for the Air Force and on the 17th of that month passed his medical and was accepted. William was described as 5 foot 9 inches and 10 stone exactly (140lb, about 63 1/2 kg). His chest was 33 inches (36 on expansion), his complexion medium, with blue eyes and brown hair. His mother, Elsie, was listed as his next of kin.

Photograph of William James Atkinson from his service file. Don't blame me for the resolution.

Usually I am looking at WWI Enlistment papers, but time had moved on. After so many years, it is to be expected that enlistment papers would change, however there are particular changes that stand out, such as questions on education (not present on WWI papers). The most striking, however, is the addition of a question regarding race. In the first World War, race did not seem to be an issue. The emphasis was on able-bodiment, health and previous experience, even if it was just with a rifle club. Health and experience were still important in World War II, but suddenly there was this race question.

WWI Enlistment form:

3. Are you a Natural born British subject or a Naturalised British Subject?

WWII Enlistment form:

3. Are you a British Subject or a Naturalised British Subject of pure European descent?

The Air Force had their own questions when William applied for Air Crew:

7. Are you a British subject? Of pure European descent?

8. State the Nationality of your Parents.

The best answer to 8 was "British". I understand the correct answer to "British subject" is "yes", but William and Clifford and Elsie were all born here, in Australia. Their nationality, looking on it with modern eyes, should be Australian, yet it is "British".

William joined the Empire Air Training Scheme and was first sent to 2ITS (Initial Training School) at Lindfield, more commonly referred to as Bradfield Park. Recruits were taught the basics of military life, along with maths, navigation and aerodynamics. In November he was moved to the 10 Elementary Flight Training School in Temora, where he began initial flight training with Tiger Moths. In February William was transferred to 2 Embarkation Depot back at Bradfield Park for medical and training assessment, where he remained for four weeks before being sent to No.2 Service Flight Training School outside Wagga Wagga on 8 April, 1942. He was to undertake 16 weeks of intermediate and advanced courses, training in CAC Wirraway single-engine aircraft, but the RAAF decided to change the organisation of its flight schools. 2SFTS was disbanded and the staff and students split between 5 SFTS at Uranquity and 7 SFTS at Deniliquin. William went to Deniliquin.

Wirraway training at Wagga, c.1941. From Wikicommons

His course included instrument flying, night flying, advanced aerobatics, formation flying, dive bombing, and aerial gunner training. William was being trained as a fighter pilot. In his service record there are two dates given for the awarding of his Flying Badge, 28 April 1942 and 2 May, 1942. He passed the intermediate course on 2 May 1942 and the advanced course on 25 June, 1942,. He headed back to Bradfield Park on 8 July to await further assignment.

On 24 August, 1942 William left Australia to complete his training in Britain in preparation for operational flying. He arrived in the UK on 18 November 1942 and was sent to the No.11 Personnel Despatch and Reception Centre at Bournemouth¹. This was where all RAAF aircrew would wait, some for months, to be assigned to units. The accommodation was made up of seconded hotels, stripped of their luxury fittings and furnishings and decked out with basic beds and lockers. But there were plenty of dance halls, and lots of girls, so it wouldn't have been dull². Bournemouth was, however, a target for German bombing raids, and 11 PDRC was later moved to Brighton where it was subject to fewer attacks. William waited at Bournemouth until 2 February, 1943, when he got his appointment – 5 (Pilot) Advanced Flying Unit.

5 (P) AFU operated out of Ternhill in Shrophsire and Clavely in Cheshire, and specialised in single-engine craft. William trained with the unit for five weeks before been assigned to 58 Operational Training Unit at Grangemouth in Stirlingshire, Scotland. Grangemouth specialised in training Spitfire pilots and had simulated night flying exercises (using special darkened goggles)³. On assignment to 58 OTU, William was a sergeant and a pilot, rather than just a Trainee Pilot. He finished his training in early July and spent ten days at 1 Personnel Despatch Depot, West Kirby, Cheshire (now Merseyside). And then he was off to North Africa to fly air support for the invasions of Sicily and Italy.

On 27 September, 1943 William was back in at West Kirby, again awaiting assignment. He held tight until 1 November, 1943 when he was sent to 2 Tactical Exercise Unit. This was really the 58 OTU, re-organised and re-named while William had been in North Africa. The 2 TEU operated out of Balado Bridge, Kinross. There was a temporary surplus of pilots and 2 TEU was designed to give pilots as much air warfare experience as possible while they were waiting to go into combat⁴.

Finally, on 4 December, 1943 William was assigned to a squadron – the 131, flying Spitfires over occupied Europe. At the time that William joined 131 Squadron they were flying Mark IX Supermarine Spitfires, but later he flew Mark VII. 131 Squadron was based at various locations throughout the war, from Scotland to India. During William's time it was operating out of south-west England, providing fighter cover for convoys and flying offensive missions over north-western France⁵.

131 Squadron badge. From RAFweb

William flew as part of 131 Squadron from 4 December 1943 to 1 June 1944⁶ and achieved the rank of Warrant Officer. There would have been many missions, but I only have documentation for his last - 265 Rhubarb Mission. Rhubarb missions were fighter sweeps against targets of opportunity. They formed part of the “softening up” of German forces in anticipation of D Day. There is a full account of this mission and transcripts from the subsequent investigation here. (Google translate or similar may be needed, depending on the level of your French)

There were four Spitfires assigned to 265 Rhubarb mission, Flying Officer Stanley Catarall in command, with William flying Red 4 in Spitfire Mk VII MB 887. They took off from Taunton, Somerset at 11.43 in the morning and flew across the channel⁷. They flew in low just south of Saint Brieuc in the Côtes d'Armor in Britanny, diving to zero feet then climbing to about 800 feet. Catarall noticed a train just west of the town. He ordered the attack and all four planes headed in, firing on the train from the side. At the end of the train was a flak wagon with a 20mm quad mount flak gun, or flugabwehrkanone. Flak is not an ammunition type, it is an action, specifically ground fire on aircraft. The flak gun opened fire.

Catarall was hit. He could see Red 2, but Red 3 and 4 were behind, so he called them. Red 3 replied, but there was no answer from Red 4.

Flight Lieutenant Richard Paget de Burgh was in Red 3. He had seen Red 4 just before the attack. When Catarall put out his call, Paget de Burgh turned to look for his team member. There was no sign of him. After repeated calls Red 1 made the decision to turn for home. The three remaining Spitfires landed back at base at 13.20. William was recorded as “Missing Presumed Dead”. It was five days before D-Day.

William Atkinson's plane and body have never been found. However, while checking up on references for this post I came across a new development. There were only three Mark VII Spitfires shot down over Britanny, all from 131 Squadron. In November 2012 the wreckage of one was located and it is hoped it will recovered and properly identified sometime during this year. I hope it is Spitfire Mk VII MB 887 and that William can finally be laid to rest.

1It took a while to work this out. On William's service record it looks like “GDRC”. Only by greatly enlarging it was it seen, finally, to be PDRC. Others in the Air Force thought it was GDRC and this error has been copied across to his Service And Discharge papers.

2For an account of life in 11PDRC Bournemouth, see WW2 People's War, BBC Home, http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/44/a2307944.shtml
358 Operational Training Unit (OTU) RAF Grangemouth & Balado Bridge, Wallace Shackleton, Kinross, http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/wwshack/Misc/Grangemouth.htm
4Clegg Eric “A Pilot's View”, http://homepage.ntlworld.com/colin.clegg1/page9.html
5Royal Air Force, History RAF Formations, http://www.raf.mod.uk/history/131squadron.cfm; Rickard, J (17 December 2010), No. 131 Squadron (RAF): Second World War, http://www.historyofwar.org/air/units/RAF/131_wwII.html
6I can apply to the RAF for William's full flight log, which will give details of his missions, but as it attracts a £30 fee it will have to wait a while.
7I wonder if William knew that his great great grandmother, Anne Allen, was born in Taunton.

For more ANZAC Stories, see ANZAC Stories, ANZAC Stories- Stanley Archer O'Toole, ANZAC Stories - The Lincoln Brothers, ANZAC Stories - The Kerswell Family
 

John O'Toole - Diving into Life

I have had paralysing anxiety about writing this, probably because I know a few people who fondly remember John O'Toole. So I am keenly feeling the responsibility that goes with this post. There is a responsibility with every post – make sure it is accurate and fair, well sourced, well written. I just am acutely aware this time.

John O'Toole was my great grandfather. He died before my mother was born, so hopefully this will shed some light on his life for her. If I make mistakes in this, or if you have extra recollections of John, please post a comment.

John O'Toole, c. 1927. Have a better or earlier photo? Please let me know.

 John was born in Chippen Street, Redfern on 22 June 1867. Mrs. Pike was the midwife in attendance. But beyond that I know very little about his early life. I know he went to school, but I don't know where. I know that when he was about three years old the family left Redfern and went back to Sydney proper, moving into 29 Clarence Lane¹. The O'Tooles moved at least twice more within Sydney before relocating to Balmain in 1880. John's father died in Callan Park Hospital in 1882 when John was only 15, but for some reason John is left off the list of children on the death certificate and instead listed as his father's father². The doctor responsible for filling in the death certificate got a little confused, it seems.

The death of Laurence had a lasting impact on the family. Everyone had to pull together, but they stayed afloat, thanks in no small part to William, Laurence and Archer, who were all working. John went to work as soon as he was able. He was a journalist at the Balmain Leader with his brother, Archer. He had an aptitude for numbers and kept the books for his brother, William. He also worked in O'Toole Bros. Tobacconists behind the counter as needed and went on to have a part share in the business. According to his son, Leslie's birth certificate, John was a clerk in 1901, although I don't know who for. Whatever he turned his hand to, he did to the best of his ability, be it journalist, clerk, accountant or tobacconist.

When it became known that Callan Park was to become a dedicated Mental Asylum, closing its doors to local medical patients, the people of Balmain began a campaign for the establishment of a cottage hospital. John became a subscriber and an active campaigner. I do wonder if this was partly motivated by his father's death in Callan Park. In March 1887, aged not quite 20, and two years after the hospital opened, he nominated for a position on the committee, but was unsuccessful. However, in 1888 John became an auditor for the committee, a position he held on and off for over a decade. The hospital is still in operation, in its original premises in Booth Street, Balmain.

The O'Toole boys were known for their service to their community and John was no exception. As well as his work for the Balmain Hospital, he was also a keen member of the Balmain Working Men's Institute and regularly served as an auditor for that organisation. He also held other positions, including vice-president in 1907³. The Working Men's Institutes provided a place for working men to relax and to further their education. The education aspect was important as many had been purposefully locked out of education opportunities when younger. Wide-spread, free, secular education was just coming in, improving the lot for the children (a system of public education we now see being undermined). The Institutes filled the gap for the fathers at least. The Balmain Institute had in its purpose-built premises on Darling Street (built 1887) a 400-seat lecture theatre, a six-table billiard room (billiards was an important source of income), smoking rooms, card rooms, meeting rooms, class rooms, a large reading room and the largest library of the Sydney institutes, boasting 6540 books, against the 2000-2500 in each of the other four (Glebe, Leichhardt, Newtown and Rozelle). While many of the books were fiction, there were also “the standard works of contemporary Socialist thought”⁴. The lecture program also featured socialist speakers, supporters of workers' rights and the betterment of the working classes and supporters of the ideas of Charles Darwin and Thomas Huxley. The institute members as a whole were Protestant and mainly independent Protestant at that. Most members were also trade unionists or at the very least supporters of their brothers in the unions. Many were also members of the temperance movement and of fraternal lodges. The lecture theatre was also used for political rallies and suffragist meetings. As a member of the committee and then of the executive, John would have been in the thick of all this activity. I think it is fair to say he would have been left-leaning in his politics.

Balmain Working Men's Institute, Darling Street, Balmain. Photo by author.

John was also an active member of the Rechabites. The Rechabites were a Friendly Society and part of the temperance movement. Friendly Societies were first established in the late C18th to help working class people. Members paid in a nominal fee and the money was used to provide funds for health insurance, sickness benefits and death benefits. Many Friendly Societies met in public houses. The Rechabites were established in 1835 by a group of Manchester Methodists to counter what they saw as alcoholic threat to the income and health of Friendly Society members. The first branch in Australia was set up in 1843 and maintained a strong membership into the C20th. William, Larry and Archer O'Toole all had strong temperance ties and now John was following suit. I wonder if Laurence's drinking during his sea-going days had contributed to the family's aversion to alcohol.

Along with the Rechabites, John was a member of the International Order of Good Templars⁵, another temperance organisation. He belonged to the local branch “We Hope to Prosper No. 177”. The Good Templars was started in the United States in 1850 (it is now based in Sweden) and, while similar to the Masons in structure and regalia, had no gender or race restrictions, welcoming all equally. Think about that. The C19th and all races were welcomed equally. The C19th and women were welcomed on an equal footing with men. This was fairly radical. Whether everyone was TREATED equally I cannot say - culture is a very strong force.

There were two Johns O'Toole in Balmain, just as there were two Williams (and for the same reason). The one repeatedly mentioned in the newspaper court reports for obscene language, theft, drunk and disorderly and “riotous behaviour” is not my John O'Toole.

And then there was swimming. John was one of the founding members of the Balmain Swimming Club and also their founding Secretary. He served for three years, receiving an inscribed gold medal at the end of that time⁶. He was unanimously re-elected to the position in 1888⁷ and served on and off for many years.The Club was formed in 1884 and is still going (Dawn Fraser was a member and did her training at the Balmain Baths). John was the club's distance diving champion (swimming underwater) and unofficially held the Australian record for a short time. Unfortunately, on the day of the official meet he was pipped by D. Landeyon. John swam 80 yards, but Landeyon managed 85 yards and 2 feet. However, the matter was not so straightforward, as the Sydney Morning Herald reported:

In the contest for the Distance Diving Championship, a mishap occurred that nearly proved fatal. D. Landeyon, of Newcastle, was diving, and had gone the length of the baths, when he came almost to the surface. It was then seen that he was exhausted, but notwithstanding he turned and made a start back. He had gone about half-way back when he turned towards the sand. At this time he appeared to be in difficulties, his head being still under water, but his feet were just above the surface. Messrs. R. Fergusson, J. O'Tool, [sic] and J. Trelevan immediately jumped in and helped him out. Landeyon was then speechless, but on recovering somewhat he explained that he was so exhausted that he was unable to lift his head out of the water to get air, and in reality was drowning.⁸

This incident was reported in papers across the colony and even as far as New Zealand.

Balmain Swimming Club meet 1902 from "1884-1984 Celebrating a Centenary - Balmain Swimming Club"

Balmain Swimming Club, as well as having the standard races and the distance diving, also had novelty events at their swim meets, such as Diving for Saucers. The idea was to dive down and retrieve as many objects as you could before you had to come to the surface. The Balmain Baths is an ocean baths. The water is not clear, there is seaweed, so it is not like diving for objects at your local council pool. John frequently took the honours in this, which is not surprising, given how long he could hold his breath. He also regularly won prizes in other races and events, as did his younger brothers. The club prizes were usually items donated by local businesses or people “of note”, and included things such as lamps, biscuit barrels, silver platters. On one occasion John won a microscope⁹.

I visited the Club archives, hoping to find a photo of John from those early years. There were photos of the rest of the executive, but none of him. When I asked why this was I was told that some years previously a number of photographs and documents were stolen from the archive, including every photo of John. If the person who did this ever reads this post, I ask you to quietly return them to the archive so that EVERYONE can enjoy them. They are club property and should be where they really belong – in the Balmain Swimming Club archive.

One of the many lovely things about genealogy research is the surprises one often gets. While going through my records to check some references for this post, I came across something I had not taken in before. As well as his involvement with the Balmain Swimming Club, John was also a founding member of the NSW Swimming Association. He was the pro tem secretary until the first formal meeting to form the association¹⁰ and was then a member of the committee¹¹.

I know John loved singing. I know he loved playing the piano. I don't know if he had lessons or was one of those lucky freakish people who can just sit down and play. But he was well known for his ability and his fine voice. Whenever there were social nights for the Rechabites, or the Working Men's Institute, the Balmain Swimming Club or the Templars, John featured on the list of entertainments and was reviewed in the Sydney Morning Herald and the Balmain Observer with words of high praise. It got to the point where his performances were being used, along with those of some other members, as incentive to the public to attend¹². He was also known as a lively MC. There are family stories (which I have only heard in the last year since I got in touch with Mum's cousins) of John playing the piano and singing at home, and the house and street filling with those who had come to listen. His favourite song was “The Holy City”, which was written in 1892.

One of my favourite clippings only mentions John in passing, but it has to be loved:

The Balmain Observer, 8 April 1887, page 5, column 3. From Trove

“General friskiness”. Just beautiful.

So there was John, very active in the community, very civic minded, very busy. And then a lot of his activity stopped. Why? Very simple. He got married. But that is a story for another day.

1City of Sydney, "City Assessment Books 1845-1948," database, City of Sydney Archives (http://www3.photosau.com/CosRates/scripts/home.asp : accessed 26 Feb 2013), entry for Laurence O'Toole Rates assessment 1871; Citing City of Sydney Assessment book CSA 027334.

2New South Wales Department of Attorney General and Justice NSW, death certificate 1882/002774 (1882), Laurence O'Toole; NSW Registry of Births Deaths and Marriages, Chippendale.

3"Balmain Workingmen's Institute Visit to Newtown," The Balmain Observer, 28 Sep 1907, p. 3, col. 3, 4; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 6 mar 2014), Digitised newspapers and more.

4Morris Roger K, PhD “Working Class Learning One Hundred Years Ago: Workingmen's Institutes in Inner City Sydney”, Paper presented at the Midwest Research-to-Practice Conference in Adult, Continuing and Community Education, University of Missouri-St. Louis, 2006, p4

5"We Hope to Prosper, No. 177," The Balmain Observer, 17 Aug 1889, p. 6, col. 3; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 6 Mar 2014), Digitised newspapers and more.

6"Sporting” The Balmain Observer, 12 Nov 1887, p. 3, col. 2; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 17 Apr 2014), Digitised newspapers and more.

7"Balmain Swimming Club" The Balmain Observer, 14 Apr 1888, p. 5, col. 3; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 17 Apr 2014), Digitised newspapers and more.

8"Balmain Swimming Club" The Sydney Morning Herald, 15 Apr 1889, p. 5, col. 6; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 6 Feb 2012), Digitised newspapers and more.

9"Balmain Swimming Club Races" Australian Town and Country Journal, 23 Jan 1886, p. 40, col. 2; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 6 Feb 2012), Digitised newspapers and more.

10"Meetings" The Sydney Morning Herald, 22 Sep 1887, p. 14, col. 2; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 27 Aug 2012), Digitised newspapers and more.

11"Swimming" The Sydney Morning Herald, 27 Sep 1887, p. 5, col. 5; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 27 Aug 2012), Digitised newspapers and more.

12"Current Items" The Balmain Observer, 30 Jun 1888, p. 4, col. 4; digital images, Trove (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 6 Feb 2012), Digitised newspapers and more.

James Slater - a Poultry Affair

Okay, something a bit more light-hearted for a change (I think we all need a break).

James Slater was one of my fourth great grandfathers (everyone has 16 of those), through the Hall line. He lived from 1778 to 1862 and crammed a lot into those 83 years. I am not going to write him up in his entirety in one post, and certainly not now. There is just too much that went on. He'll get a “Matters of Conviction” post at some point, amongst many other things.

I have quite a few convict ancestors. With the exception of two, it was pretty much a fair cop for the whole bunch. James is one of those two. I strongly suspect he was framed so that his skills could benefit the new colony (currently working on trying to prove or disprove that theory, but let's just say at the moment his conviction looks decidedly dodgy).

At any rate, he ended up in Australia in 1814 while his wife and eight children remained behind in Lancashire.

After working out his time (and building the colony's first water-powered carding machine – yes, I am very proud of him), James set up a carpentry business and in 1828 was operating out of premises in Pitt Street, Sydney.

If you know the Sydney CBD, when you hear “Pitt Street” no doubt you think of something like this:

Pitt Street, Sydney, circa 2010. From Wikipedia Commons

Or maybe this:

Pitt Street Mall, from Wikipedia Commons

But back in 1828 it was rather different.

The entrance of Port Jackson and part of the town of Sydney, New South Wales [picture] / drawn by Major Taylor, 48 Regt., engraved by R. Havell & Son. National Library of Australia, nla.pic-an5575513-v

Most people in Sydney kept chickens. Handy supply of eggs you didn't have to pay for, other than the feed. Some people bred pigeons for the table. James had ducks and I doubt he was the only one. Sydney was a town, not yet a city, with wide streets and low houses. There were some tall buildings – the Barracks, the churches, some commercial enterprises, Government House and such like, some two-storey residences, but on the whole it was far more domestic than our modern minds allow. The Gadigal people who had originally inhabited the area had largely been forced out or had died through introduced pathogens such as smallpox. (Looks like the State Government is about to force out another group who “don't fit”, with the decision to do away with public housing at Millers Point). Sorry. I will stop my angry digression.

Back to James, who had a carpenters shop, and poultry. He also had a pet dingo. This dingo, whose name is sadly unknown, loved James. He loved him a lot. He loved him so much he made the papers:

There is in the possession of a person named Slater, in Pitt Street, a native dog, completely versed in the arts of theft; when loosed from his chain, he proceeds to the yards of such neighbours as are possessed of poultry, and relieves them from the expense of purchasing provision for the feathered tribe, by transferring them to his master's garden, without doing them any injury. We have known dogs of this species to be equally predatory, but we never knew them to neglect to kill their prey, in amount far beyond the cravings of hunger.¹

I think James must have had an interesting relationship with his neighbours.

Mr Slater and his dingo came to the attention of the Monitor because James was daring to take on the vestiges of the Rum Corps and its associated nest of vipers. But that is a story for another day.

1"Domestic Intelligence Continued" The Monitor (New South Wales), 14 Jan 1828, p. 8, col. 1; digital images, Trove - Digitised newspapers and more (http://trove.nla.gov.au : accessed 23 Feb 2013)

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