The Journey Begins

When I first planned this trip, I had visions of following Edward's route completely sequentially and along the same path as him but clearly the logistics of that are impossible. For example whereas he set off from Yulgilbar and just followed his nose down river through open, unfenced forest, everything is now fenced and owned and I doubt if landholders would be wildly excited about me trying to ride my bicycle across their paddocks, upsetting the cattle and frightening the horses. Or maybe wildly excited is exactly what they would be, but not in a good way.

The view downriver from the old Yulgilbar homestead. Presumably the way Edward set off.

What's more, Edward gives only vague descriptions of his route. He mentions distance, overnight stops and occasionally things passed on the way but no precise direction. I'm not even sure how he navigated. I'm assuming he had a compass but he says nothing about any other means of navigating when he isn't on a road, which is most of the time. I've realised then I'm going to have to create a reasonable facsimile of his trip rather than a precise recreation.

He started on July 8 and while I thought of waiting till then, given that I'm not going to be doing it precisely I'm happy with our departure date from Grafton on July 2. It's certainly the same time of year and his description of a bright clear Australian winter day is certainly representative of what we have been experiencing. He clearly feels emotional about his departure and he waxes more lyrical in this description than much of the diary but I guess he is aware that a particular phase of his life is coming to an end. He can't even be sure that he will return and ponders Shall I ever more revisit that hallowed shade?; referring to his brother Fred's grave, which at this point is the only one in what later becomes known as The Vault.

While a couple of stockmen come out to make sure they get underway ok with the horses they are taking down to Sydney to sell, his companions for this part of the journey are one of his European workers and a native black boy, named Denny. (It has been suggested to me that Denny is an ancestor of Archie Roach, the musician, and I've sent an email to his management asking if he has any information about that but as yet have had no reply.)

On our trip to Lionsville we called in at Gordon Brook. A workman there wasn't sure where the original homestead was but a later phone conversation with the manager revealed that it had been on the site of the current house. Nothing remains but a few cookhouse foundations and the avenue of cedar laurels leading up to the house.

Their first day ends at Gordon Brook station about 30kms down river from Yulgilbar. From there he made his way across the river, he doesn't mention where, and called in at Newbold Grange where some business...occasioned further delay. My understanding is that this was a boundary dispute he was having with the occupants of that station. Probably a bit touchy here so he progressed on to Ramornie for his second camp the hospitable dwelling of a valued friend, and where awaited me one of the pleasantest of this life's pleasant things - a hearty welcome. This from my other Clarence ancestor, Charles Tindal.

Mt Camelback from Gordon Brook. Edward would recognise this.

As a way of getting the feel of the country, I finally got my canoe out on the mighty Clarence today. Trish dropped me off at the Lilydale Bridge, just down stream from Newbold Grange, and I paddled down to Copmanhurst, just past Ramornie, where she met me.

Lilydale bridge.

It took a couple of hours so I guess it was about 15kms or so and if Edward followed the river then I must've been pretty well where he was. The river banks now are filled with lantana (not a South American dance as Trish once postulated) which while pretty, is certainly a pervasive weed. Something that wouldn't have been here in Edward's time. A big wide river with a reasonable downstream flow, it passed over several surface rapids but nothing too vigourous. Just enough to be fun. If Edward had had a canoe like mine he could have whizzed down to Grafton whenever he felt like. Ok it would've taken a fair bit of time (unless it was in flood which would make things interesting) and then there would be the matter of how you got home but I did contemplate what he would have made of my canoe. Even in the last 30 or so years plastic has revolutionized canoes because you can just scrape and bump over rocks, logs or whatever, in a way that plywood, canvas or even fiberglass could never have done.

Trish hunting for platypus at Copmanhurst. No platypi but she did spot 2 turtles.

The river was idyllic and I couldn't believe I had it to myself. Didn't see a soul. Just cows. Beautiful.

Toolbillibam Would Be Proud

When we met with Rod Williams, he told us that his maternal aunt, Dr Margaret Weir (nee Williams) wanted to meet us but is currently housebound due to ill health and couldn't come to our morning tea at Gurehlgam. However, he gave us her contact details so that we could try and catch up with her. Today we visited her and her husband Brian for morning tea.

Dr Weir is an impressively graceful lady and while her physical health may be problematic, her mind is as sharp as ever. In 1959 she was the first person of Aboriginal descent to complete a university degree, graduating from the University of Melbourne. She went on to develop a career in education, working all around Australia and then travelling to Canada where she spent three years in the Canadian Navy. Somewhere along the way she also found time to complete a PHD. 

While she appreciates that her life is a unique one, she says that she finds it difficult to see it as unusual because it is the only life she has known and one that from an early age, she had felt destiny was guiding her to. While charming and open, Dr Weir has a commanding presence and it is clear that nothing is ever likely to have intimidated her. 

She told us the stories that have been passed down to her over the years about the Ogilvie and Tindal families. Like others, she said that she has not heard a bad word about the Tindals. In regard to Edward Ogilvie there seem to be a variety of perspectives. Squatters Castle suggests that while Theodosia was a positive influence on him, on his return from Europe and after building his mansion, he became more status conscious. As a young man he was "one of the boys" but he then became more formal, combative and generally difficult to get along with. 

However, some of the Bundjalung views are that as a young man he was a ruthless participant in suppressing the original Australians and that Theodosia was a humanising influence on his relationship with the locals. However, the stories Dr Williams heard suggest that under the influence of his second wife, his relationship with the Bundjalung went downhill significantly and that it was only the moderating calm of Toolbillibam that prevented serious retaliation against him. It is impossible to tell the exact nature of historical events but I guess it is pretty clear that Edward could generally be difficult. Supportive if he was getting his way but not someone who ever liked to be opposed. 

Two hours flew by with Dr Weir and it was wonderful to meet yet another of Toolbillibams impressive descendants. 

Robyne Bancroft welcomes guests to country at Grafton Art Gallery.

Our day was completed with another wonderful experience. Grafton Art Gallery, the source of my original contact with the Bundjalung community via their Lindt photo exhibition, hosted an exhibition opening by local artists, inspired by the Lindt photos. Both Dani and her eldest son Jirrayne had works included and we had a great evening meeting various friends and relatives of the extended Bancroft and Williams families. I have to mention too, a haunting performance by two local men, one playing didgeridoo accompanying another singing traditional songs. One of the best Aboriginal cultural performances it has ever been my privilege to witness. Listening to them I was transported back to when Europeans first arrived here and once again I wished that we could have done things differently back then.

Jirrayne & his artwork. I'm proud to be related to such talent. See below too.

Dani with her artwork. The snake skeleton references a snake bone necklace worn by one of Lindt's photo models. The hands are representative of Bundjalung tradition whereby the last joint of the little finger was removed from women on marriage. I'm guessing that girls today might say "just a nice ring will be fine".

Long & Winding Roads

Pardon me if I've said this before but there is some beautiful country in these parts. Today we took a drive up the old Grafton - Glen Innes road which was the main thoroughfare from the 1870's until the current road was built in 1960.

The road follows a variety of river valleys - the Orara, the Nymbodia, the Boyd - which all eventually become part of the mighty Clarence. Again at the risk of repeating myself these rivers are magnificent. I could spend a lifetime canoeing them although I think that would need to be done in company because in many cases they flow through wild country where you wouldn't want a mishap on your own.

The floods here must be awesome and the evidence of their destruction is everywhere. At the Buccarumbi crossing on the Nymbodia there are still huge steel and concrete columns tossed aside on the banks by a flood in 1946.

The road is just a narrow, winding, largely unsealed track that was built for bullock carts, drays and other pre motorised transport and this would've been the road taken by the Tindal and Ogilvie sons up to the properties they established around Glen Innes in the late 1800s and early 1900s.

Trish hopefully scans the banks of the Boyd River at Dalmorton for gold nuggets. You can feel the serenity.

We stopped for a picnic on the banks of the Boyd River at Dalmorton, another of those gold towns that had several thousand people in the late 1800s but are now just a collection of foundations, old shacks and the odd gravestone.

Imagine carving out that by hand!c

About halfway up the road passes through a tunnel hewn out of the rock face of a spur that couldn't be by-passed. We made that our turn around point and headed back to Grafton from there. Just a great day out.

Extended Family Extended

When I embarked on this journey, one of the things I wondered about was whether Edward Ogilvie or Charles Tindal would have Bundjalung descendants. Given that both had spent significant parts of their 20s and 30s as single men I figured that there was a reasonable chance that they might have had sexual relationships with local women.

In Squatters Castle an episode is described in which Edwards second wife Alicia berated an older Bundjalung lady for sitting in the kitchen doorway. This spirited lady responded that she needn't get too flash because she "had been Mrs Ogilvie long before" Alicia had! George Farwell's interpretation of this was in relation to the fact that the Ogilvie children had been wet nursed by Bundjalung women (because Edward felt breast feeding was unladylike!). Farwell was writing in the still conservative early 1970s and was to a large extent dependent on Ogilvie descendants as information sources so he needed to be coy. However, as a family member, I can be more frank. When I first read that passage, I made completely different assumptions. On that basis, when I made my approach to the Bundjalung community I asked if there was anyone with an oral history of descent from either family.

Dani, me and Robyne. See a family resemblence? The first thing everyone asks on meeting new family.

However, there was a surprise in store for me because a connection arose that is more recent than either Edward or Charles. I was contacted by Robyne Bancroft who told me that she is a great grand-daughter of John Travers Tindal. Her father's mother was Anne Bancroft who was the oldest of two daughters of John and a Bundjalung woman Alice. Robyne's family history is that John had two daughters by Alice in the 1880s. His family were not very happy with the way things were progressing so he was shipped home to England where he was married off to Mary Ogilvie, thus (sort-of) solving the problem. This makes Robyne's Gran and my Gran half sisters.

Robyne is an articulate, straight talking lady, about a decade older than me and an archeologist by trade. She offered to take Trish and I on a guided tour to Lionsville, just over the river from Yulgilbar, where she grew up, so this morning we packed a picnic before picking her up from her flat and setting out.

The Lionsville area is full of scar trees like this, indicating the previous scale of Aboriginal population.

We had a fabulous day. Robyne is a fount of knowledge on the history, both black and white, of the area and seems to know who lives in pretty well every place along the road. She also gave us a crash course in Bundjalung culture as we drove. En route we picked up Robyne's daughter Dani and Dani's 19 year old son Jirrayne, who live half way between Grafton and Lionsville. They were likewise knowledgeable tour guides. Dani and her family have a beautiful property on a ridge above the river that is part of the old Gordonbrook station.

On crossing the river at Yulgilbar and entering their home ground of Lionsville we stopped and Dani bade us formal welcome to their traditional home. Two eagles were hovering above us which Dani and Robyne said was a good sign because they are usually there to welcome them.

Jirrayne & Dani with a particularly spectacular scar tree.

Lionsville was once a thriving gold town with a population up to 4000 people. Anne Bancroft was obviously as competent as her grand-daughter because she was the Post Mistress there from the 1930s through to the 1950s. All that is left now though is the ruins of the Post Office and two houses. However, the extended Bancroft clan gather there and camp on the banks of the Washpool Creek every Christmas and we picnicked at their campsite.

Anne Bancroft at Lionsvile in 1940s with a rose that apparently came from a Yulgilbar cutting.

Hidden by overgrowth is the remains of the Lionsville PO.

Last house standing at Lionsville,  vibrantly decorated by the Bancroft clan.

Spending the day with them was a highlight. The people you form friendships with are obviously ones who share your views, thoughts and approach to the world and I feel completely at ease with Robyne, Dani and Jirrayne on that basis. Plus its nice to find cousins that you never knew you had.

Jirrayne, Dani & Robyne welcome Matilda & Trish to the Bancroft campsite. She declared it her new favourite picnic spot.

Toolbillibam

Written European history is generally positive about the Ogilvie family's relationship with the original owners of the country they took. Edward's parents, particularly his mother Mary, were seen as being liked and respected by the locals on the Hunter River.

For  his part, its clear that Edward was involved in some of the initial massacres on the Clarence but European history justifys that (as most killings were & still are by those who can't face up to them) as being a response to the killing of one his workers. (The fact that it later became apprent that the worker had probably been killed by one of his own colleagues was glossed over.)

However, he soon developed a reputation as having a fairly progressive attitude to the aboriginal population. Much of this was based on a widely requoted letter he wrote to the Sydney Morning Herald in June 1842. In this letter he defended the original inhabitants against claims that they were incorrigibly savage and suggested that they were merely defending themselves as anyone might do.

He describes his own rapprochement with the people he had displaced through a meeting with a group headed by a man named Toolbillibam. Edward had learnt enough Bundjalung from Pundoon, a little boy he had kidnapped a year earlier after a massacre, to be able to to have a rudimentary conversation with Toolbillibam who asked him why, given that they had yielded the river flats to them, they now appeared to be interested in taking possession of the hills as well. A reasonable question really.

Edward skirted round that point but went on to say that as long as the Bundjalung didn't take up arms against them, the Europeans wouldn't harm them. In the discussion it also transpired that Pundoons dad was in the group and he was understandably excited  to hear that his boy was alive and well. (There was at least one other child taken along with Pundoon but they are never mentioned again so presumably were neither alive nor well. Whether they died from one of the European illnesses so easily and fatally comunicated to the Australians, or just from the undeniable shock and trauma of being kidnapped, or suffered some other fate, we will never know.)

This strangely composed Lindt photo c.1872 shows Edward riding into the drive of the Big House. It isn't known who the seated Bundjalung man to the left is. Its been speculated that it could be Toolbillibam or Pundoon but it could just have easily been any local co-opted as a "prop" for effect as Lindt was partial to that kind of thing. What it does demonstrate clearly is who is now in charge.

The gates are still there. 

Edward concluded by saying the Bundjalung had taken his advice and now everyone was getting along famously. He suggested that other settlers could benefit by doing likewise. While it might be stretching the point to say that he and Toolbillibam then became friends, it appears that they developed a relationship of acceptance as time went on. Later well known accounts describe the Ogilvie brothers having wrestling matches with Toolbillibam and his brothers.

It has been suggested to me that Edward wrote this letter as a cynical subterfuge to divert attention from the fact that he was continuing on his past ways but the letter does strike me as genuine. Obviously we all present ourselves in the best possible light but if this letter was a ploy, it was a exceptionally clever and Machivallian one. Edward came under some flak for the letter with other correspondents responding that he clearly didn't have a clue what he was talking about. It would've been far simpler for Edward to continue to justify any future murders as being reasonable acts of self defence as did many others for nearly another century.

At yesterdays meeting I  had the privilege of meeting a number of Toolbillibam's descendents, in particular his great, great grandson Rod Williams. Toolbillibam was clearly an intelligent, practical realist. He realised that the newcomers had the power.  They had already shown that opposition would be fatal and clearly the path to survival was going to be by accommodating them, initially by ceding them the river flats but later by accepting the invitation to get along, albeit on their terms.

Rod Williams & I. 

It seems that this approach has been passed down through the family. Over lunch Rod explained that his family had largely been able to evade the Stolen Generation in the early 20th century by firmly denying welfare representatives admission to Baryulgil where they lived, until they had first gone on to Yulgilbar to seek permission from the nominal white landowners. In the time it took them to do that, the family made sure that any children disappeared until the welfare had gone. The family also consciously avoided contact with missions and their residents because they could see that they prevented people from living autonomous lives, thus damaging their ability to be resilient.

For his part, Rod has developed a successful career in the mining industry and now uses the skills he has developed in his own business training & mentoring consultancy.  I'm really glad to have met Rod and his family and hopefully we can maintain a relationship as equal, and therefore true, friends. We were both clear that there won't be any wrestling matches either. We're both too old for that shit!

Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

One of the things that I wanted to do on this trip was to make contact with the Bundjalung community, original owners of this area, to pay my respects to them and to apologise belatedly for the actions of my ancestors for taking their land in the first place and for any untoward acts they committed in the process. While all the details were never recorded, it is indisputable that the Clarence Valley (and Australia generally) was taken by force from the original owners. While this can never be undone, it seems reasonable to me to say that I am sorry for the way it happened and that I wish it could have been otherwise.

I cannot agree with those who condemn what they term "the black armband view of history" and that to say sorry is to accept guilt for actions in the past. In my view those who take this view must in their hearts still carry guilt that is so great that they just can't face up to it. If you think about personal situations, often it is hardest to say sorry when you know you were wrong but just won't face that. As a historian it seems to me that Australians have always had a fair idea of the violent ways in which our European ancestors took possession of this country and have had to find reasons to vilify and condemn Aboriginal people in order to justify those actions. Sadly there are still many who seek to do that today.

History also makes it clear that we always knew that terra nullis was a myth. There are numerous accounts across the country of early settlers recording original Australians explaining to them how they defined land possession and there are equally as many accounts of Europeans acknowledging that the Australians couldn't just move elsewhere once dispossessed because all the land was possessed by other groups. Terra nullis was just something we invented to make ourselves feel better about what we were doing. Clearly it was a matter of us having the might and we used it. Why some sad folk can't just admit that is a mystery to me.

I also wanted to find out if there are any local people who are either descended from the Ogilvies or Tindals or had family stories of contact with either family. When we visited the exhibition of Lindt photos at the Art Gallery they gave me contact details for Debby Taylor, one of the researchers from the Gurehlgam Corporation and she kindly organised a get together with a number of locals today.

About a dozen Bundjalung people came and very graciously accepted my apologies. They also shared with me some of the stories that they had heard from grandparents about the massacres of the early days and some of the prejudices they had faced and sometimes still face in living their lives.

In white written history the Ogilvie family are generally regarded as having positive relationships with the original Australians even though there are records of them having participated in some of the early massacres on the Clarence. Sadly, however, it seems that in some local oral history Edward Ogilvie is regarded with mixed feelings. However, the group made it clear that while they share my sadness at what occurred, they don't bear any personal grudge about it and all they hope for is the oft trumpeted Aussie "fair go".

Amongst the group were people who are descended from Toolbillibam and from John Travers Tindal and their stories are so important to my trip that I will cover them in individual posts.

A Squatter's Castle

Ten years ago Trish and I came through Grafton on a driving holiday up from Sydney. At that stage I had read Squatter's Castle but done little other research on my family history in these parts. We figured that seeing as we were in the area we should take a drive up and see what could be seen of the house. We found our way to what we figured were the gates into the place but they were clearly pretty secure. It was obvious they were monitored by CCTV and while we were stopped on the roadside trying to see if we could get a glimpse of anything, a 4WD arrived quick smart and a pleasant young farm hand asked if he could help. I explained that an ancestor had built the place and I was wondering if I could have a look. "Not without permission", he said. I asked who I could get permission from and he told me the Myer family in Melbourne, so that put paid to that.

A view of the Big House at Yulgilbar in the late 19th century. The house was photographed and painted frequently over the years and if you google Yulgilbar Castle you will probably come up with a variety of images over the years.

This time I did a bit more preparation and about a year ago I established contact with the Yulgilbar archivist Sue Ibbott. Sue has been very helpful and arranged for us to join in with a group of Grafton seniors on a tour today. The Myer family are clearly interested in preserving and developing the property's history and have established archives and a museum in the cellars of the house. Once a month they have a tour of the gardens and the archive and such is the interest in the place that the tours are booked out a couple of years in advance.

In the early 20th century the Big House deteriorated to such an extent that when the Myer family came to renovate it, removing the upper storey seemed the best solution.

On a hill overlooking the Big House is a folly, where the ladies of the house used to go to sketch & do needlework. Here Trish who often eoans her own lack of a castle, does a little sketching.

As family, Sue also arranged for the house caretaker John Denny to take us on an extra tour down to the family cemetery (known as The Vault) and to the manager's house which is built over and around the original homestead. For the purposes of my trip, this homestead is of greater interest than the Big House because it was where Edward left from in 1854, the Big House not being built until after his return.

We put some wattle on Edward's grave because I figured it might've been a while since he'd had flowers. The headstone to  the left rear is Mary Tindal, my Grans mother. Immediately behind Edward is his brother Fred and to his right, the smaller cross is a memorial to Theodosia. Behind her is their last child Hubert who died in infancy and in front of her are headstones for Mabel & Charles Lillingston. 

A painting done by Edward's sister Ellen in 1852 of the original Yulgilbar homestead. My mother found a print of this painting in an op shop in the 1970's and bought it for me, which was really when Yulgilbar first entered my consciousness. 

Trish & I in front of the old homestead. Somewhere under this building is the original cottage which over the years has been built over and around.

While Edward had hopes that Yulgilbar would become a dynastic family property (in fact it was in great part due to his complex will, leaving the place to his daughter Mabel Lillingston & her husband -with the proviso that future inheritors maintain the name of Ogilvie, which never happened - that it ended up being sold out of the family) I think that he would be reasonably pleased to see it today. While it hasn't become the Ogilvie country seat, it has become that for another dynasty, the Hordern-Baillieu-Myer family. They run it as a working cattle and horse stud and family retreat, which I think would please Edward as they have the resources to maintain both its agricultural and heritage values. In the 1930's the property passed into the hands of the family of Sam Hordern who for Albany readers, was the great nephew of Anthony Hordern who built the Perth to Albany railway, has his monument at the top of York St and is buried in the Albany cemetery.