Tuesday 24 May 2016

A Little Bush Grave…

 
ERIC HASTINGS PILKINGTON
August 1911 – 24 May 1912



One spring day last year, during a weekend at my family home in Sandy Point, I went on one of my customary walks around the area.  Sandy Point is a quiet little settlement on Victoria’s southern coastline, tucked in the shadow of Wilson’s Promontory.  Come summer, it is a bustling holiday centre, but in early spring the few permanent residents share their home with just the local birds and wildlife, and the pristine beach is almost deserted.  This is how I love it.
 
Walking along Ryan’s Rise, I stopped to pick a bunch of the fragrant white freesias which grew thickly along the roadside and into the grounds of the neighbouring empty holiday homes.  A lady coming towards me walking her dog paused to exchange a greeting and a comment on my task.
 
“They’re lovely, aren’t they,” she said. “ You know they are supposed to have come from a baby’s grave?” 
 
“Yes” I replied, “I do know that…”

Ryan's Rise, Sandy Point
© Katrina Vincent 2015


104 years ago today, little Eric Hastings Pilkington, not quite 9 months old, succumbed to pneumonia and passed away.  In due course, he was laid to rest in a little bush grave lovingly prepared by his father, my grandfather.  A wooden frame surrounded by a strong wire fence was built to mark the spot, and buffalo grass planted in the newly-turned soil.  When my grandmother recovered from the same illness, she planted freesia bulbs from her own garden at the gravesite. 

The site was chosen on Crown bushland adjoining my grandparents home, easily reached by a meandering track from the house.  Over the ensuing years, the freesias and buffalo grass naturalised and spread so that 50 years later, when the Crown land was sold to developers and subdivided for holiday sites, no trace remained of the exact location of the little grave.   My father estimated that the road was constructed over the actual gravesite.

Some months after baby Eric’s death, my grandmother recorded the following in her diary.  Her writing indicates her desire to keep little Eric’s memory alive, and I hope that my tribute will help to preserve this little piece of history.

© Katrina Vincent 2015
 
September 6th 1912:  In writing this diary I am not pledging myself to write daily or even weekly –     perhaps not monthly. Sometimes life goes on uneventfully for months at a time – at other times events crowd thick and fast, and some of them one wants to remember and if some record is not kept, time dims them and in trying to think back, one is amazed & often sorry to find that much that would have been better remembered has grown faint in ones memory. It might be so with the little life that came into existence in Aug of 1911 & passed away to God again on May 24th 1912, & left such a blank in our lives, we miss him so sadly.  Sometimes I think the pain grows greater as time goes on.  He is never out of my thoughts & some days I have many sad hours & I yearn for him though I know everything that we could give him on earth would be as nothing compared with the full life of Eternity into which he entered almost before his life here was really begun.  He was such a joy such a bonny sturdy brown-eyed smiling little son.  Even through his illness he did not waste at all as our darling Haughton did.  So much that I did not see - the others have told me of spasms of pain & suffering & how for three hours before he died his eyes were fixed above. My little lamb – I was ill when he was dying & strange hands did everything for him.  My last recollection is of the day after Nurse came, 22nd Wednesday, lying in the cot beside my bed with his beautiful brown eyes wide open & his wee hands playing with the fringe of his shawl. The pneumonia had left him then & we all thought he was getting better but God had other plans & that night he changed & sank gradually.  I did not miss him fully until after Belle went home & then oh shall I ever forget the empty rooms & the silences. Haughton was such a mouse in those days, the eruptions on his hands & feet keeping him chained to the couch & I was weak & Carl anything but well, but thank God, we are all in good health once more & Haughton the greatest comfort to us & as merry & chattery as we could wish him. He is so interested in thinking & speaking of Eric in heaven & I want always to keep him in his mind. Eric was within a week of nine months when he went away & was such a big boy. His eyes always had a smile in them & his hair was a sunny brown & was just beginning to curl & he had four little pearly teeth. Some people think that children develop in Heaven but I like to think of him always as my darling brown-eyed baby. I have a great deal of comfort in my deepest grief in knowing that he is safe with Jesus who loves the children & when He was on earth used them to illustrate some of His most beautiful sermons.

Eric
"Family Notices" The Age (Melbourne, Vic. : 1854 - 1954) 25 May 1912: 5. Web. 24 May 2016 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article197359089>.
                                         



Tuesday 17 May 2016

The Carthage - A Pleasant Voyage ... a Trove Tuesday post

THE CARTHAGE-A PLEASANT VOYAGE. (1891, January 12). The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954), , p. 8. Retrieved May 15, 2016, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article13780581
 
Mr. Haughton mentioned in the above article is my grandfathers 2nd cousin, William Horatio Haughton (1858-1932).  He was the writer of the letter of introduction carried by my great-uncle Fred Pilkington when he arrived in Australia in 1890.  See previous post New Beginnings.  I stumbled upon this article while researching William Horatio for that post.
 
P & O S.S. Carthage
This image was originally posted to Flickr by Australian National Maritime Museum on The Commons at https://flickr.com/photos/33147718@N05/8724028831.
It was reviewed on by the FlickreviewR robot and was confirmed to be licensed under the terms of the No known copyright restrictions.
 
 
S. S. Carthage was built for P&O in 1880 for the London to Australia route.  The ship was 5,013 gross tons, length 410ft x beam 44.4ft, iron hull with two funnels and four masts.  It had a speed of 15 knots, with accommodation for 187-1st and 46-2nd class passengers.  Carthage was used as a hospital ship during the Egyptian Campaign of 1882.  Between 1900 and 1901 she was employed as a transport and hospital ship during the Boxer rebellion in China. The ship was scrapped in Bombay in 1903.
 
 
William Horatio Haughton received his 2nd Mate's certificate in 1882, and his Master's certificate in 1889.  He did at least 4 voyages to Australia on the Carthage between 1889-1891.  He is on the retired Commanders list in 1913.
 





Sunday 15 May 2016

New Beginnings

Frederick William Pilkington
1869 - 1952
 Pilkington Family Collection
 
Great-uncle Fred was the first of four Pilkington brothers to emigrate to Australia.  At 20 years old, he left his home in county Clare, Ireland, sailing from England to Melbourne on board the SS Oruba.  The colonies provided much more opportunity for him to create a future than life as an impoverished younger son in Ireland.

Fred’s prospects had changed dramatically in 1884, when both his parents died within 6 months of each other.  He was the fifth of nine children, and was well educated, but there had not been funds for any further training.  The passenger list for the Oruba in 1890 records him as “grocer’s assistant”.

Prior to his departure, Fred had received a letter from his second cousin, William Horatio Haughton, containing some advice for the voyage.
William advised Fred to keep to himself as much as possible, not to drink and not to gamble. 
No doubt this was valuable advice, written from William's perspective as 2nd Mate on P&O S.S. Carthage.
 
Daunting as it must have been for a young man to travel alone to the other side of the world, Fred was not entirely without connections.  His first cousins Tom and Charlie Griffin had been in Australia for several years and were reportedly doing well.  He also carried with him a letter of introduction from William Horatio Haughton to James Barlow, a clerk in the City of Melbourne Bank.


1st page of letter of introduction
 
Pilkington Family Collection
 

 Fred stood on the corner of Elizabeth and Collins streets looking up at the impressive columns of the City of Melbourne Bank. In his pocket was a letter of introduction written by his cousin William to Jim Barlow, a clerk in the bank.  
Fred had come out here to make something of his life. At 20, he didn’t have much to go on. Indeed, as William had written: “He has no profession and not much money, but he is a good steady chap.” 
For a moment, Fred felt a wave of nostalgia for the old days when the family were all together. Six weeks ago, he’d said good-bye to his brother Dan at Tilbury Dock, and boarded the ‘R.M.S.S Oruba’ for the journey to Australia. Dan had embarked the same day, bound for Argentina. Charlie was in India with the army. And the others back home – they thought he’d come out here, make a quick quid, then return home to live in comfort. Would he ever see any of them again?
His thoughts turned to his cousin Tom who had come out years ago. The last Fred had heard, Tom was up the bush somewhere surveying for the railways. He’d have to look him up, once he was settled.
Fred looked again at the solid building in front of him, symbol of the prosperity of the colony. He wasn’t really sure that life in the city would suit him. Checking his pocket for the letter, Fred took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy door. Time to see what Jim Barlow might have to offer.

© Katrina Vincent 2016. Written for “Writing Family History” unit, University of Tasmania.

City of Melbourne Bank, cnr Elizabeth & Collins Sts. Melbourne
  State Library of Victoria http://handle.slv.vic.gov.au/10381/101131
wood engraving by Albert Charles Cooke
originally published in Australian Sketcher


What, if anything, Jim Barlow had to offer is unknown.  But Fred did meet up with his cousin Tom and spent several years working with him before settling on his own land.  Fred was a meticulous diary writer, and in his later years when physical frailty limited his activities, he used his diaries to compile his memoirs.  More stories for another time.


The City of Melbourne Bank was built in 1888, and demolished in the 1940's. Click on the link for a detailed description of the building.