William Trewin: 'Rhoda Mountjoy is my niece. She has been staying with me on a visit for about three weeks

There was a much stronger feeling of national identity and of celebration than in 1888. Centennial Park was the centre of Sydney's celebrations, and therein a huge grandstand with a canopy was erected with 'ample accommodation for Horses and Vehicles'... 'refreshments of every description, also Musical Selections'... 'a Panoramic View overlooking the Swearing In Ground'... 'Comfortable Seats with Reclining Backs'... 'ample sanitary accommodation'. Seats cost between six and ten shillings. At the Sydney Cricket Ground massed military bands gave a concert of Christmas Carols. Military and civilian brass bands, and many soldiers, including British and Indian contingents, marched in the ceremonial procession to Centennial Park, which was led by representatives of the trades unions and their tableaux and displays. Those that followed in carriages included the press, judges, clergymen, mayors, politicians, councillors, and the heads of the church, state and the

185

the home of the Governor-General. It was to remain so for the next 26 years, until Parliament moved to its permanent home in Canberra.'

To begin with they lived not far from Richard senior in Errol St, by the railway line. Then they moved even nearer, to Buckley St, on the southern side of the railway tracks. So of all Richard's children - apart from his unmarried eldest daughter, Elizabeth Jane (who still lived with her parents) - Richard probably saw the most of Dick, Fanny and their four children, Louisa, Jessie, Lilian, and Richard Thomas, who was six in 1902.

Dick was still in South Africa when he was robbed by a kaffit (according to Aunt Lil), while going to post a letter to Melbourne; he was hit on the back of the head. This is said to have contributed to his blindness: his optic nerves were damaged, and creeping cataracts soon robbed him of his sight. On account of this, he is also said, while scavenging in a quarry, to have fallen and hurt himself.

Aunt Lil would say, years later, that her father was blind for about ten years. She said: 'If he wanted to see grandpa and grandma in Albert Street, I used to take him there. He had a stick, but he never used it like you see blind men now... Our mother couldn't read to him, as she could hardly read herself. She couldn't even sign her own name properly. Her mother died when she was an infant, and that left her and her father. He never sent her to school or anything like that. An aunt took her in and had her work in the kitchen. So she never had any education. I don't know how she mananged, but she did.'

It sounds as if times were hard for Dick and his family in the opening years of the new century and during the apotheosis of the British Empire and the Edwardian age - King Edward VII was crowned in August 1902.

Quarrying was still a major physical and economic feature of Footscray life. There were at least a dozen quarries in the area, most of them north of the railway line to Geelong. In 1908 the business run by the Rumpf brothers was bought by the Albion Quarrying Company, one of the biggest of its kind in Victoria. Perhaps grandfather Richard and his son were employed there, or at one of the two quarries on Gordon Street, or at the Footscray Council's quarry on Nicholson Street North. And were they members of the Quarrymen and Stonecutter's Association formed on 11 May 1906 at the Plough Hotel?

They must surely have belonged to one or other of the many church or sporting societies, clubs, pubs, masonic lodges, or other groups that thrived in Footscray and organised frequent outings and social events. Yet despite such vigorous activities and much civic pride, the community, in 1907, still lacked any public gardens or public hall, as well as any local library, swimming-pool,

187

In 1907 a telephone service was established linking Melbourne to Sydney, New Zealand became a Dominion, and what has been called the 'first Australian classic of the silent screen', The Story of the Kelly Gang, was seen and acclaimed. Made by the Tait brothers on their property near Heidelburg, it ran for about an hour and a half, and spoken dialogue was provided by actors behind the screen. The Taits made other films, including Mystery of a Hansom Cab, and such was the public's interest in this new and exciting entertainment that the Federal Hall in Footscray was turned into a permanent picture theatre four years later, and the first cinema to be built as such, The Grand, was opened the year after that, in time to screen the antics of the Keystone Cops and the first Charlie Chaplin films.

Would that someone had filmed, as they could have by then, the diamond wedding anniversary of Richard and Elizabeth Honeycombe of Albert Street in September 1907. Sixty years of marriage were surely worth commemorating in some way, and if so something may have been organised by the elderly couple's second son, Dick, and his wife Fanny, now living around the corner in Buckley Street.

But Dick was blind and ailing; and he himself was 50 a few weeks before the event. His four children - the two eldest were now at work - were now 17 (Louisa), 15 (Jessie), 13 (Lilian - Aunt Lil), and 11 (Richard junior). Dick's older brother, George the coach-painter, and his wife Eliza, were still in Albion Street, South Yarra; Tom's widow, Catherine, was in Fitzroy; and Jack and his family were still in Johannesburg.

The old couple, now 78 and 85 and still attended by their spinster daughter, Jane, were given an anniversary present of a sort the following year when Prime Minister Alfred Deakin's government introduced old age and invalid pensions of ten shillings a week.

Other notable events of 1908 were the naming of Canberra as the site of the Commonwealth Government's new home; the staging of the first surf carnival and competition at Manly; and the publication of Mrs Gunn's story of outback life, We of the Never-Never.

The first of Richard and Elizabeth's eleven grandchildren to marry was Tom's daughter, Elizabeth Mary. A dressmaker, aged 26 and living at 18 Falconer Street, North Fitzroy (where the marriage took place, solemnised by a Methodist minister), she wed Joseph Richards, a 27-year-old process engraver from North Fitzroy, whose father was described in the marriage certificate as a

188

The Permewans were on the up and up in Melbourne then. Their common ancestor, John Permewan, who was born in Penzance in 1837, was in Ballarat and Geelong in the 1850's and 60's establishing himself as a road and river carrier of goods. His company had the largest share of the Echuca trade by 1875, and by 1888 Permewan, Wright & Co had 48 branches in Victoria and New South Wales. Their London agent was Pickford & Son. The company's express wagons, pulled by teams of horses, could carry up to six tons of goods; and it also owned two cargo and three passenger steamers plying between Melbourne and Geelong. John Permewan died in Ballarat in 1904. But his family maintained his business and their name is still well known in connection with enterprises involving hardware and general merchandise.

It would seem that Elizabeth Mary Honeycombe's mother, Catherine, was related by marriage to the Permewans, and that her marriage was a genteel affair - and not just because the bridegroom's father was a gent.

There were more celebrations two months later, when Footscray's first 50 years were accorded a Jubilee Procession and Gala Day in June. The procession, over a mile in length, took 20 minutes to pass the many thousands of people who lined the flag-bedecked streets. Among them must have been three generations of Honeycombes - Richard and Elizabeth, Richard and Fanny, and Richard junior, now aged 12.

They saw at the forefront a dray bearing elderly pioneers, some of those, according to the Advertiser, who had witnessed Footscray's rise 'from a swampy, riverside flat to one of the busiest manufacturing centres in Australia.' Next came other horse-drawn vehicles carrying manufacturers' and traders' displays, featuring soap, wool, glue, leather, chemicals, dairy products, meat and other goods. On one of the carts a little girl, surrounded by corn and barley, held a Cornucopia, a horn of plenty, out of which tumbled a profusion of fruit. There were bands and representatives of masonic lodges in their regalia, and carts carrying comic tableaux. At an open-air civic reception the Governor of Victoria was welcomed by the Mayor, Bill Fielding, Footscray's only Labour councillor, and cheered by thousands of children. Speeches were followed by feasting, fun and games.

Said The Age. The city showed that it was thoroughly satisfied with itself, and proud of its 50 years' record - as, indeed, it has reason to be'. Did Dirty Dick get drunk that night with his cronies in some local hotel?

The following year, in April 1910 (when Jane Mountjoy died, aged 84, in Geelong) Labour won a landslide victory at the Federal general election, and Andrew Fisher, the new prime minister, inaugurated a period of reform, heralded by the spectacular progress of Halley's Comet across the sky, and the death in May of Edward VII. His son became George V. Banknotes became Australian, and not British, and a national penny post for half-ounce letters was introduced,

189

Other changes to local and national life over the next two years included the creation of the Northern Territory (separated from South Australia) with Darwin as its capital; the creation of the Royal Australian Navy; the first appearance of women in the Olympics (Fanny Durack was the first Australian woman to win gold in the 100 metres freestyle in Stockholm in 1912); and the creation of a maternity allowance of £5 for every newborn child. Most wondrously in Footscray was the illuminating of the streets and some homes with electric light. With improved sewerage and running water already in most homes the domestic scene was transformed, becoming more as we know it now. A further transformation was that of the stinking Saltwater River into the less polluted and sylvan Maribyrnong, its banks beautiful with flowering shrubs, boulevards and trees.

As if as a prologue of the wars to come, and in keeping with the mercantile and military-based ethos of the Empire - King George V and Queen Mary visited India at the end of 1911 and were proclaimed Emperor and Empress of that land - a Drill Hall, believed to have been the first in Australia, was built in Footscray to accommodate the weekend and evening activities of young male cadets, aged from 12 to 18, who became liable that year for compulsory military training. Up to the age of 25 all young men were also required to do 16 full days' training a year. Although irksome to most and abused and derided by some - officers were assaulted and cadets assailed by brawling larrikin gangs called 'pushes' which were active at this time (they assaulted passers-by, as well as each other and the police) - the patriotic devotion to England, the Empire and the Union Jack that had sent Australian troops to the Boer War and the Boxer rebellion in China, was still strong and strongly preached in schools.

Young Richard, Dirty Dick's grandson, was 15 in September 1911. Was he among those forced to do weekly drills? Two of the other grandsons (George in Fitzroy and William in South Yarra) at 30 were too old. But Tom's younger son, Thomas Gordon, aged 22 and also in Fitzroy, may have had to have paraded and shouldered arms.

This Thomas, who was apparently known by his second name, Gordon, married Albine May Child on 24 April 1912 in All Saints Church in Northcote, a nice northeastern suburb of Melbourne - ten days after the Titanic struck an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sank.

Despite the death of his father in 1901, Gordon's mother, Catherine, had clearly raised the social standing of her family, probably through hard work, thrift and the exercise of a good business sense and contacts. Her eldest son, George, (as we know) was a clerk and would become Town Clerk of Fitzroy. But even in 1912 Gordon's marriage certificate shows that the family had some affluent and influential friends.

190

Gordon and his bride were both 23. He was living at the time in 31 Rowe Street, North Fitzroy, with his mother and older brother, George, and he is described in the certificate as a 'traveller' or salesman. Albine was a milliner and the daughter of a Northcote butcher. The witnesses are interesting: John William Metters, and a man who signed his name as Mac Robertson. Metters was a name now notably associated with the manufacture of gas stoves in Melbourne. The other signature looks very like that of the philanthropist Sir Macpherson Robertson, who made a fortune in confectionery, sponsored antarctic expeditions, air and motor racing entreprises, and at the time of the centenary of Victoria in 1934, provided the prize money (£15,000) for an Air Race between London and Melbourne, as well as large sums for a girls' high school and a fountain. He also introduced chewing-gum and candy floss to Australia. Dressed in white, with silver hair, he impressed wherever he went. His personal indulgence was a fleet of Packard cars. The Robertson signature became known all over the sweet-eating world. His empire has since been absorbed by Cadbury-Schweppes, but 'Old Gold' chocolates are still produced and carry that unique signature on the box.

Now the maiden name of the mother of Gordon's bride (Albine Child) was Rebecca Martha Hedington. Surely she and Elizabeth Hedington were sisters? If so, Mac Robertson, who would have been 53 in 1912, was Albine's uncle by marriage.

This was confirmed in an aside by Aunt Lil years later that meant nothing at the time. She said: 'Gordon married twice. The first was Mrs Mac Robertson's niece. In Fitzroy. They had a daughter, but then she got rid of him, and he married again.'

So Gordon must have had great expectations because of this marriage, with the good fairies of the Metters and Robertson families blessing the connubial rites. After all, he had nearly married into a fortune. Unfortunately, he must somehow have blotted his copybook or not shown any business flair, as his expectations were never realised, it seems, and he remained a salesman or small businessman all his life.

The witnesses at his sister's wedding in 1909 had been two Permewans. How interesting it is to know now, through a chance finding in a marriage index,

191

But did anyone, at either wedding, know or remember that Thomas Gordon's aunt, Mary Ann Regelsen, had given birth to an illegitimate baby girl in Geelong in 1872 - a girl whom she named Margaret Mary Robertson? If this child had lived she would have been Gordon's cousin. Was the father of Mary Ann's bastard child at either of the weddings of Mary Ann's nephew and niece? He couldn't have been Macpherson Robertson, who was 12 in 1872. But an older brother - or cousin perhaps? Or perhaps that Robert Robertson who wed Mary Permewan in Geelong in 1881.

Time and more research may unravel these relationships. But there we must leave them now, returning to Footscray and Dirty Dick's more immediate family, and to his eldest son.

George William, the coach-painter, died in the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne of nephritis and uraemia on 11 September 1913. Born in Leith in Scotland, he was three months old when his parents, Richard and Elizabeth, took him and his two older sisters by ship to the other side of the world. When he died he was 60, and none of his four children, three girls and a boy, had married as yet, all waiting until their thirties to do so.

A happier event, though with an unhappy outcome, was the marriage of Richard and Fanny Honeycombe's eldest daughter, Louisa May, to Harold Mudd, in May 1913, two months after the foundation stone of the city of Canberra was laid. Louisa was a tailoress, aged 23, and Harold was an engineer, or mechanic.

Her father, Dick, died the following year, on 28 December 1914, of cancer of the bowel. Aged 57, and blind, he died at home, at 168 Ballarat Road, where the family had lived since 1912.

Dick's son, young Dick (Richard Thomas) became at the age of 18 the breadwinner of the family, responsible for the continued well-being of his mother and two unmarried sisters, Jessie and Lil - as he must have been as his father slowly went blind. As such, young Dick never became involved in the First World War, and was saved from being slaughtered with thousands of his contemporaries at Gallipoli and in France. He was a turner by trade, a machinist doing lathe work on precision tools. He could have volunteered to serve in the Army or Navy, as some unemployed breadwinners did. But his mother wouldn't hear of it. She was afraid of losing her only son.

Thousands of other mothers lost their sons in the next four years. In this period nearly 330,000 men were sent to distant battle zones overseas to assist the British in their armed struggle against the Germans and Turks. Nearly

192

60,000 of these men were killed, and 167,000 injured - a huge percentage of those who went to war. The Anzac myth was born, and the image of the fearless, devil-may-care digger, and redoubtable Aussie, reinforced.

The Royal Australian Navy, but three years old, was put at the disposal of the British government and fought its first and last ship-to-ship action in the First World War in November 1914, when a light cruiser, HMAS Sydney pounded a German warship, the Emden, to pieces off the Cocos Islands in the Indian Ocean. The Sydney was part of a large fleet of warships and transports that had assembled off Albany in Western Australia and had sailed for Egypt on 1 November with the first 20,000 of the AIF, the Australian Imperial Force - a volunteer force, for conscription would never be enforced throughout the war. Among these enthusiasts eager for a punch-up and an overseas trip were four battalions of men from Victoria, and a company from Footscray.

E Company, 120 men, had enlisted in Footscray at the outbreak of war. Its colours were tan and red - 'mud and blood'. They were given a riotous and rousing send-off at the Drill Hall on 3 September. Their Captain assured the Council: 'If anyone can see this job through, it's the Footscray lads!'. After cheering and booing through this and other speeches, the lads consumed all the sats and drink on hand with such gusto that some worthies complained later of 'a drunken orgy'. A soldier said: 'I feel as though I could fight the fucking world'.

Tradesmen, labourers and country boys, they marched with thousands like them through Melbourne and embarked for Albany and the war, proudly wearing their loose-fitting, woollen, khaki uniforms and their felt hats, with wide brims turned up on the left and sporting the rising sun badge of the AIF, its rays made up of bayonets and swords.

In Footscray, those left behind settled down with their newspapers to read about the censored, propagandist progress of the war. Accounts of German atrocities soon inflamed citizens' feelings of hostility towards anyone with a German name. Children so named were jeered at and called Herman; adults were labelled Hun and avoided or abused; their businesses were boycotted or stoned. But there was not much to read about Australians in action until April 1915. Even then it was only the casualty lists in newspapers and letters from the front received in June and July that told some of the story of Gallipoli. Oddly apt

193

The men of E Company were among the first to land on the beaches of Gallipoli on 25 April and among the first to die. Of their number only 30 were unwoundedoraliveattheendoftheday. In their letters they wrote: 'The bullets were dropping in the water just like rain'... There were three in our boat shot'... 'Fellows were toppling over in all directions'... 'By jove, it was a terrible battle'... 'It was simply hell on earth.' Sgt McKechnie, in hospital with 12 bullet wounds, wrote: 'Nearly all our company was wiped out after six or seven hours fighting on that memorable Sunday morning, only one officer and a few men being left standing. It was said the famous Light Brigade rode to the gates of hell, but we went one better, and sailed into hell itself, and stopped there, refusing to retire.'

But retire they did from that pernicious peninsula, after eight months of appalling conditions, casualties and losses, added to by fever and disease and with nothing achieved.

In the midst of all this mayhem overseas, George Honeycombe married Bertha Madden.

George, Tom's eldest son, a clerk, aged 33, was living at 328 Queens Parade, North Fitzroy - presumably with his mother, Catherine Honeycombe. Her other son and her daughter had married already, and rather well socially, with Hedingtons, Permewans and Robertsons attending the nuptials. George's bride was the 26-year-old daughter of another clerk, Augustus Madden, of Charlotte Street in genteel Richmond.