Dearly Beloved - part 8 in a series

 As I have stated, when I have been walking around the cemeteries, in the majority of cases, my people do not have headstones. A couple have the surname engraved at the front of the grave, but even those who have a defined resting spot are in the minority. Most of them don't. They simply lie, under the dirt, with nothing stating who they are. 

I don't know why. I think in the case of Elizabeth Croker Waldron, perhaps there was once a marker, but given the history of Coburg Pine Ridge Cemetery, constant flooding has washed it all away. I wonder if, perhaps in the case of others, people just never got around to marking it. Or they simply did not have the money, as the only member of my family who did have some finances behind him was James George Waller. It is also likely that others intended on having a stone placed once they had themselves been interred in these resting spaces, but this didn't end up happening. Regardless, it's a good thing I do like walking around cemeteries, reading the stories of others, because certainly, there has been little in the case of stories recorded on my family members' graves.

A notable point of difference has been my great-great-grandfather, John Henry Robinson, and my great-great-grandmother Charlotte Amor. They are co-interred in one of the most stunning cemeteries in Melbourne (Booroondara), with a clearly marked grave, and spectacular old-school headstone. My great-grandmother Bertha was their 7th-born child, immediately after her twin brother Albert. They are the only set of twins I have found in my family tree - I do have twin cousins, but that's different to descending from a twin. There were also some fantastic photos of Albert available. What can I say, the dude looked like a movie star. He had soulful eyes and cheekbones to die for, and it was the latter that gave me some historical echoes, as I also have prominent and high cheekbones.

Anyway, on shifting through Ancestry, and then downloading some certificates, I realised that what had been recorded about John Henry Robinson was incorrect. He was not, as others had recorded, from Wiltshire, rather he was a Dubliner. Though he was known as "John" quite often, his name was actually "John Henry", and he preferred to be addressed as such because his father's name was John. His mother, on his marriage certificate, was listed as Mary Farrell. Beyond these two, I have not been able to find much in the way of information. So I make the assumption that they too were Dubliners.

Another interesting thing about John Henry is that he came to Melbourne on the Leonides from NZ, having spent 7 months living there. I am unsure if his intended destination was always Melbourne, or if he had moved to NZ and then simply decided he wanted to move on. Either way, it's fortuitous that he did come here, because if he hadn't, then I wouldn't exist.

Charlotte was 19 when she married John Henry, her sister Letitia acting as her witness. Charlotte had come to Melbourne with her parents and her two surviving sisters - Louisa being the eldest and the other one. Her parents Henry and Elizabeth, like so many other of my ancestors, had so many children that didn't survive infancy, that I cannot help but think they moved here in the hope of a better life and to escape some pain. The trouble is, it didn't work out for them. Within a couple of years, the Amor sisters were orphaned, their parents buried in an unmarked grave in St Kilda, and Louisa marrying and seemingly acting as the parent figure until her sisters were old enough. I cannot imagine how terrifying this would have been for them.

On flicking through the records of John Henry and Charlotte, one thing becomes crystal clear - these two were utterly adored. John Henry, following his death at 64 years old from heart disease and pneumonia was, every year without fail, honoured by "in memoriam" notices by his wife and many children and their partners. Almost always, these loving notices contained a poem, or some skillful prose. It was amongst these notices actually that I first got the indication my great-grandmother's husband Cyril Purser Tuttleby was sometimes fondly known as "Purse" - he had signed one of these notices as such. But yes, I think it speaks a lot for John Henry that on his death, so many members of his family kept his memory alive.

I believe John Henry worked in industrial labouring, but that he was a tram "grip man", and so transported materials across sites and what-not. He apparently worked for the same people for over 40 years.

When John Henry died, Charlotte continued to live in their home at 61 Easey St (worth 250 pounds at the time) with her daughter Grace, who didn't marry until later in life. Due to this, Charlotte made special provisions in her will for Grace, leaving her furniture and household effects, then from there, dividing up her house and estate equally between all her children. Her executors were her son Henry, and her son-in-law Samuel. Charlotte's death was also marked by numerous loving messages in the classifieds. Despite her incredibly rough start, she died at 73 years old.

I wish I had photos of John Henry and Charlotte, and some more information, because truly, they seemed to be a deeply loving and devoted couple who fostered that same love in their own children. Of their daughter Bertha, I have few photos. There is one though of her standing in a wheat field next to a woman who, thanks to those tell-tale cheekbones, has to be another family member. She was a striking woman, not a traditional "beauty", per se, but with incredibly strong features that made her stand out.

Anyway, of all my ancestors, with the exception of James George Waller possibly who seemed similarly adored, it is clear John Henry and Charlotte fostered love and happiness, and in their grave, their children have let subsequent generations know just how much they thought of their parents.

"Can't swing a cat without hitting a Liddle" - part 7 in a series

 As mentioned, apart from getting a definitive answer to a couple of questions on my Liddle side, I have not ended up doing much research on that side. The Liddles are a big, Aboriginal family from Central Australia, and as such, just carrying that surname due to patriarchal social norms, as well as coming from a second well-known Central Australian Aboriginal family in the Perkinses through my grandmother, placed me in ways I have never known on the non-Indigenous side. There had also been other family members on that side who had already undertaken the research on the Liddle lines, so I was thankful for that work done, really. It was simple: the Liddles came over here from the Orkney Islands in Scotland where they mainly worked sheep. Thomas Drever Liddle and Mary Hercus landed in South Australia with their children, my lot descend from their son Thomas Foster Liddle and his second wife, Matilda Hurle. Their son, William Hurle Liddle went from Angaston, SA, up to Central Australia, got a pastoral lease. And therefore the "Central Australian Liddles" descend from William and his acknowledged Arrernte wife Mary Earwaaker. William had additional children to other women on the cattle station, and as such, surnames like Randall, Forrester, etc are also part of our immediate family. 

A huge part of my experience therefore have been people coming across random Liddles, via the public sphere, the media, politics, community, etc and going "hey, are you related to...". This happens all the time, and I am sure other Liddles get asked it in relation to me. In short though, the most common ones I get (relationship, in white ways of knowing, expressed in brackets) are: Lorraine (first cousin, once removed), Kerrynne (first cousin), Ryan (second cousin), Catherine (second cousin), Helen & Zane (aunties), Leanne (first cousin), Johnny (first cousin, once removed), Bob (first cousin, once removed), and Allan (dad). Just to cover it 😉

So it's due to this network, this already done research, and the many trips up and back from Mparntwe in my life, that digging deeper didn't really happen. I thought I knew the story there.

A trip to Fawkner Cemetery to visit the resting spots of my mum's family changed that perception. And in all places it could change, the "Pioneer Section" was probably the least likely. But here we are.

The Pioneer section is on "third avenue", and to get to my nanna Lorna's wall niche, I walk straight through it. As I was doing so, the above headstone caught my eye for obvious reasons, so I took a photo and looked up the names when I got home. I didn't assume a relationship, it was simply interesting that there was a Liddle in this section.

What did I find out? Well, firstly, Peter Liddle was from the Orkney Islands as well, and indeed, from Kirkwall, which was where Thomas Foster Liddle was born before his parents relocated to SA. Secondly, Christina was also from this area. Thirdly, we were related to both of them, as Peter's grandmother was a Drever, Christina's mother was a Drever, both of them had siblings married in with the Hercuses - which we also were, and so forth. 

I will be straight up: the Orkneys are isolated, and as such, there was a lot of intermarriage going on between the families. So much so, that what I saw was an intricate network of various family names, and therefore, quite trackable. Though I am yet to find out exactly how my lot are linked to both Peter and Christina, but when I can give it some real time, I will be able to figure it out quite easily.

I also found out that Peter was here for the goldmining. He died a few years down the track up in the QLD goldfields, of all places. There was another part to this though. Next to this grave was another grave for the Miller family (as I have since found out, more correctly "Millar", but spelling is not always consistent. Such is also the case with Hercus/Harcus). I found out that these graves are a pair, and were originally surrounded by a wrought iron barrier. The Millers were also from the Orkneys, and were, in fact, Peter's maternal uncle and his wife and children. We have links with the Orkney Millers as well, and as such, are related to this lot too. 

So in effect, I was not just looking at a Liddle relation who had, somehow, landed in Victoria before my Liddles made it to SA. I was looking at an entire family group of ours who came to Australia earlier. As such, I am fascinated.

I am yet to work out the exact degree of relationship between us and these family members, but thanks to a wonderful website on the Orkney families by another descendant of these families, I am looking into it now. Hopefully, I figure it all out soon!

Creeping around cemeteries - a supplement to the family history series

Even before I started picking apart the family tree, I have spent a lot of time creeping around cemeteries. It was a part of the ritual every time I would hit the homelands - going to the Alice Springs Garden and General cemeteries, calling in on the family, and reflecting on the times I got to spend with each of them. It's actually generally one of the first things I do when I touchdown in the homelands, and am heading into town.

The same didn't happen for my maternal side. In truth, not knowing an awful lot about them, and having not met the majority of them, the connection wasn't there. We also don't have a resting spot for my "Cocky" (pop) Ernest. A tragic turn of events means that the urn containing his ashes was stolen in a house robbery and the contents disposed of in ways unknown. As I have constructed the branches of the family tree, I have placed so many people from my mother's childhood who she remembers clearly, but had no idea where family members. Those familial ties were not necessarily constructed for her in the mix that was the Clifton Hill/Collingwood area in the 1950s, even though it seems she grew up surrounded by family. I have postulated that this is probably a little due to privilege - my Arrernte family, in the face of legislation, has had to fight just that much harder to keep together, and so knowing who was who became infinitely more important.

I have been trouping around my local cemetery for years. It is very close to my place, and due to it being teeming with rabbits, it's an excellent place to walk my Jack Russell x Kelpie. She's never allowed off the lead - I would lose her down a warren within seconds. The local cemetery historical society has marked out some key graves of community figures, complete with a storyboard, so it has become to me a place of stories. I walk through, reading the headstones and seeing how people have reflected on their loved ones. Hagiography is obviously a thing - I am yet to come across a headstone that says "the dude was a bastard and I am glad he's no longer tormenting anyone" - but everywhere you look, you see vignettes of lives lived. 

It was very recently that I found out that this local cemetery was not just a convenient dog-walking park for me. Rather, it contains part of my story. There is an unmarked grave in the south-western section of the cemetery that contains my great-great-great-grandmother Elizabeth Croker Waldron, together with one of her sons. Buried under the name of "Elizabeth Jenkins", Elizabeth arrived in Australia in 1863. She first married a John Sanders, and their oldest daughter Amelia is who I descend from via her marriage to James Emanuel Waller. Following his death, Elizabeth married a man named Henry Jenkins and had a further child, living to the nice old age of 89 years old. She died in 1925. 

This particular section of the cemetery is full of damaged and unmarked graves. Apparently, over the decades, it has been prone to flooding, therefore making the ground unstable. Locating Elizabeth has really just been guess work - I believe I have marked out where she is, and I have used a couple of cemetery vases to highlight the area. I have contacted the cemetery trust with regards to putting a marker up, have found out that Elizabeth is still listed as the owner of the plot, and therefore by descent, I potentially do have the right to claim ownership of the site and put a marker up. The problem is proving this - from her to me inclusive, there are six generations. Therefore, I am but one of quite a number of potential claimants, and I am certainly not a senior claimant. The rules of the cemetery trusts, I will return to shortly after this next story, but here's a photo of how I first marked Elizabeth's spot.

The second story I have is of my great-great-great-grandfather James George Waller. As previously mentioned, researching this line gave me a lot of joy as it was via this that I found out that my maternal side was not completely white, and that I was the direct descendant of a Dutch-Burgher revolutionary. James becomes an example of someone who was legally a British subject, but who was actually a non-white migrant who got into this country prior to the White Australia Policy and my theory here is that this history was allowed to be forgotten so as not to inconvenience family members during decades of racist policies.

James George Waller was listed as "unknown" regarding his burial site on findagrave. He also didn't appear in the cemetery trust search engines. I didn't see how this could be the case - he died in Melbourne and it was likely he was buried here. I tried a different tack - I searched my great-great-great-grandmother Caroline Waller (Hodges). I came across a gravesite at St Kilda cemetery from the correct death year, and then did a further search on this cemetery for the name "Waller". In the same grave, I realised that a man listed as "John George Waller" was interred. I immediately shot the cemetery trust an email listing a potential error, while a friend did a reconnaissance job for me on the site. He found it to be marked out, but in disrepair and with no headstone confirming the identity of the inhabitants.

The cemetery trust officer was lovely and helpful. She informed me that there was a third occupant of this site - an Elsie Coventry. Through my research, I was able to quickly identify Elsie as their infant granddaughter via James and Caroline's daughter Hariet and her husband, Ebenezer Coventry. From there, I obtained a copy of James' death certificate to confirm his death date and resting site details, sent it to the trust, and after 115 years of incorrect records, we finally had a resting site for James - the grandson of Quint Ondaatje. 

It was when I enquired about placing a monument to mark this spot for other descendants after so long that I hit a road block. According to, at least, the two main cemetery trusts of Melbourne, all burials are conducted "in perpetuity". In addition to this, all burial sites are also purchased "in perpetuity". So the person who owns a grave site can be completely different to the person who is buried in a site. This was the case for James and Caroline - the site remains the property of Ebenezer Coventry as he purchased it, and he retains this ownership despite dying in 1935. Despite me being a direct descendant of two of the interred people, I have no claim to this site as I am not a descendant of Ebenezer. I could get the site ownership transferred to me, but to do so, I would have to find a legal beneficiary of Ebenezer alive today, get them to prove their right to claim the site, AND then get them to also transfer their right of ownership over to me. In other words, I have buckley's. We're talking hundreds of people, countless legal wills, and so forth. 

There is no flexibility in these rules, even this many generations down the track, and no common sense allowances. I did write to my local MP outlining what I saw as a problem, and his office was incredibly helpful. Unfortunately though, they passed me to the Ministry of Health, and all I got there was a woman from the office repeating everything to me I already knew, and completely missing the point of why I contacted in the first place. I was not looking for an individual path of what I "might" be able to do, I was looking for governments to consider revisiting cemetery trust legislation in a bid to give some common sense allowances so a direct descendant, after a certain passing of time, may have some ability to claim a site and mark it. One remedy she offered included asking the trust if I could spend the money to put a temporary monument on the site with the understanding that if an owner does eventually claim the site, I would remove it. In the end, I just got frustrated with this woman and said "perhaps I can just put a makeshift wooden cross on these sites with the names on it like I have seen others have". She said "that would be illegal", to which I replied "yes, and that's my entire point for contacting, here".

On one hand, these laws are great. They mean folks won't just be exhumed when the cemetery feels like it. On the other hand, they are ridiculous. More people are undertaking family research than ever before due to the availability of technology, and there is no way for us to ensure our forebears are remembered, and others who come to this spaces can see these people existed.

Finally though, yesterday, quite by accident, I came across an anomaly. I visited many family burial sites in Fawkner cemetery, and the majority of these sites were unmarked. In my great-grandfather, Cyril Purser Tuttleby's, resting site, he lies with an infant son named Raymond, and...a complete and utter mystery woman who appears to be of no relation at all. I have contacted the cemetery for clarification here, as this woman's death certificate gave no insight at all as to why she would be connected enough with my family to have access to be buried here, 30 years after Cyril's death. Perhaps they will have something for me, but if not, what this means is that while I may not have the right to claim Cyril's site and erect a headstone on it, a cemetery may have the right to inter a random person in a burial site. I await their information eagerly...