Rather than spoil a decent read by dotting text with footnotes containing loads of bibliographic information, I’ve opted to address, acknowledge, and thank those who’ve made a major impact on genealogical studies and success.
Peekle’s stories are the result of extensive research, made so much easier by the treasure that is National Library of Australia’s — Trove.
If you enjoy Australian history, need to settle an argument, or find information for students’ assignments, or — like me — search for the truth about generational, familial yarns that struck a dud chord, then go and lose yourself at Trove.
I’ve found some startling information there — huge things that cast a different shadow on both sides of my family, and little nuggets that now seem tiny, though, no doubt, a big deal at the time. For the smaller truths, I’m thinking about my grandfather, one of the most ‘proper’ gentlemen I ever knew. Da always wore a three-piece suit, from morning till night. His shirts were starched, white, and collarless. He added a stiff, white collar, pinned with a gold stud. It was a relic from the early 1900s. Always a hat. He was disciplined and operated like clockwork.
Da reeked of integrity. He was very well respected. So, being arrested at his place of business would have absolutely crushed him. He was a barber—hairdresser and tobacconist at Mittagong, in NSW’s Southern Highlands. He was charged with receiving stolen goods; ‘the goods’ being nicked cartons of cigarettes.
On my dad’s 10th birthday, no doubt adding to his trauma, Da fronted the magistrate who quickly ascertained that the defendant had honestly conveyed his claim that he was unaware the goods were stolen. He was acquitted, while the bogus tobacco salesmen weren’t so lucky. As an aside, Australian cricket legend Don Bradman was one of Da’s clients — and I have those scissors!
Along with Trove, I’ve bought a lotta books on topics and subjects I’m keen to explore. I buy them because the library books I’ve borrowed in the past are never returned on time and, when I did get them there, and had to slide them down the chute, I started missing them … yes. Weird.
Without Trove, I would never have been able to enlighten my extended family on the truths attached to our ancestors’ past. Without Trove, I would never have been shaken to my core, finding that my convict gggg-grandparents were hanged in Sydney Cove for murder in 1799. Nor that the other side — the respected, pioneering Victorian family, Russell — had a cunning, charming, handsome, dangerous bushranger among their ranks. William “Billy” Russell, my gg-grandfather, twice escaped prison to resume his dodgy life on the run, living on the proceeds of coach hold-ups. And visits to wealthy Catholic homes on Sundays, while the family was at Mass, to rob them blind. This he did with the help of gooey-eyed servant girls, who were keen to do the bidding of the dashing fella. All he did was hand them sacks, and while he lent in the doorway singing, his gang on the lookout out front.
I also subscribe to three genealogical websites and, while they knock a dent in the wallet, these are of critical value for those serious about tracking down the past. A plethora of documents, images, and even distant relatives (who much better DIY family trees than mine) active on such sites.
These photos, certificates, police records, and the like, add loads of colour and flesh to research, and this is hard to ignore. I’ve found almost too much information at Ancestry, Heritage, and Geni, but sifting thourgh, there’s always nugget of gold! One of my grandfathers had four stepsiblings — names of whom I had never heard, nor heard discussed. I believe they were ‘the cousins’ in Hamilton, New Zealand some occasionally mentioned.
Most of the little shocks discovered in my investigations would not rate a blip today — save the murderers and the bushranger, obviously! But the generational butt-covering has kept old taboos alive in a modern age — up until the internet’s content ‘populaters’ began loading databases of historical gems from centuries past. Though some events may seem small by today’s standards, these taboos and the resultant behaviour need to be viewed through the lens of the day to understand the societal/familial/religious ‘moral norms’ of the day. The permeating, shame-infested secrecy that kept the ‘then and now’ running into one another for hundreds of years, and deliberately muddying the familial waters. Secrets make it hard, but not impossible, to crack open the truth. Tracing newborns who’d been ‘given’ to a relative to raise, to save the immense shame of falling pregnant out of wedlock, is another story, and more common than you’d think.
Of course, some of my knowledge came from my parents, but quite a bit more from older relatives keen to share what they knew. Being suspicious of some answers, I found almost all could be verified through my ‘agents of research’ on the internet.
To those also on a mission to correct the record, or find the records, best of luck! All you need is to become truly, madly, deeply obsessed. Like a dog with piles and piles of very old bones. 😉
Kate
Peekle 