THE MUCKADILLA STORY
By Marcia Harrison
This story was written by Marcia Harrison taken from the oral history of her mother, Norma.
PREFACE
“You know that some people hate animals, but when you are alone riding in the bush, if you have a horse that loves you and a dog that will stay with you, it is a love that you will never experience in life with humans”.
These words recorded by Norma Henley provide an insight into the loneliness experienced by her, when as the result of her marriage to Henry Chayter, Norma, Henry and their small daughter, Marcia, moved to Western Australia. Henry, a chemist, was offered the position of manager for Western Australia for Drug Houses of Australia. These were the post Depression years, times were still tough and the offer of a good, steady job, was a prize to be taken.
The family travelled from Queensland piano and all (the Beale piano was strapped onto the deck) on a tub of a ship called the Duntroon. The voyage round the Bite was extremely rough, the cases slid from side to side from under one bed to the other.
Norma and the three year old Marcia were so ill, they disembarked in Adelaide and continued the voyage by train.
For many years this young woman (who knew no one in Western Australia) pined for Western Queensland, her parents and her two sisters and three brothers.
Norma’s family lived in a suburb of Queensland known as Graceville. Why Western Queensland meant so much to Norma Henley, is the topic of this story.
CHAPTER ONE THE HENLEYS
It was official. They were engaged. After months of conniving and match making by Aunt Emma, the announcement of the engagement of Elsie May Henley to Denis O’Sullivan, appeared in the Brisbane papers. It would never last, the cynics pronounced. You simply cannot tear away a girl like Elsie from all her familiar surroundings and comforts, transplant her in a lonely, hot, isolated place and expect this elegant, pale skinned girl to survive, let alone thrive.
William James Henley came to Australia from Bristol. Apparently the Henley’s were experts in the leather trade and the story goes that his trip to Australia was sponsored by James Dixon of Dixon’s shoes. William, a fine looking man, won the heart of Mary Scott from Maryborough, married her and for the next twenty years, this union produced six children. The couple had a lengthy separation when, during the Gold Rush, William tried his luck joining other hopefuls in Kalgoorlie in Western Australia (a vast distance to travel in those days). He survived by the Grace of God rather than good management, cutting hair – which was not really his trade – in order to earn enough money for the return journey to Queensland. Elsie, born 8th August, 1892, was their eldest daughter. Norma, born eighteen years later, was the youngest.
The Henley family lived in Baroona Road, Rosealea in a two storey terrace house consisting of four bedrooms upstairs with bathroom, large kitchen and general living areas down stairs. Mary’s favourite room was the parlour, complete with piano on which resided William’s (not to be touched by anyone) piccolo. It was a sloping block and those wishing to use the toilet were obliged to climb forty steps to reach what was called an Earth Closet (or EC) in those days. Frogs enjoyed this out house, so the whole activity afforded a certain amount of adventure! As many fruit trees grew in the back garden, it would be reasonable to assume that this little outpost was obscured from view. Never the less, that house today would be considered trendy, with its white wrought iron trimmings and coffee tree in the front garden.
Unfortunately, the situation of the bedrooms upstairs proved too much of a burden for William’s asthma (to say nothing of the trek to the loo) and the family was forced to sell-up. They moved to an area called Sherwood, where a house was rented until the family home at Graceville had been completed. This suburb was almost semi-rural in those days. A place where a horse could be kept without council interference. A place where a horse could be ridden to school. A place where six children could roam as free spirits – as much as the superstitious, nervous nature of their mother would allow, that is!
Immediately prior to the engagement, Elsie was working in McWhirter’s store amongst the elegance of the lace department. A far cry from the wife of a station owner in remote Queensland. These surroundings were not natural for Denis O’Sullivan either.
CHAPTER TWO THE O’SULLIVANS
In the 1870’s at a tender age, Denis O’Sullivan arrived from Ireland with his family – his parents Denis and Mary plus three brothers- on the four masted sailing ship, the Earl of Delhowie. There was a sigh of relief when the ship docked safely in Moreton Bay in Queensland, as the voyage had not been uneventful. In fact during a storm in the Bay of Biscay Denis’ three older brothers, Timothy, John and Jeremiah (Jerry) were called upon to ‘man the pumps’.
Other branch members of the family had already settled in Australia and finding the country to their liking, had encouraged the rest of the clan to join them. A clan they certainly were – originally farmers from County Cork in Ireland, where they were known by the name of Sullivan. It seems that these Sullivan boys were prolific breeders of boys who were all named John, Timothy, Jeremiah or Denis. To eliminate postal confusion, on their arrival in Queensland, Denis (snr.) and Mary added an “O” to their surname and so began the O’Sullivan dynasty.
Denis attended school in Dalby (West of Toowoomba) and on passing the scholarship examination was accepted as a pupil teacher, a privilege which was accompanied by a meagre monetary reward. Denis moved on and worked in the Stamps and Titles Office until his activities were curtailed by the onset of Trachoma. The best part of the next year was spent in the Wilson Eye Clinic, where the granulations were burnt off with Copper Sulphate. The young man emerged from this ordeal with eye sight too weak for office work.
As a result of what must have seemed at the time a cruel blow, Denis (or Dinnie as he was called) together with his brother Jerry went bush, where they earned their living shearing sheep with hand shears. In many ways their bodily make-up was totally unsuited to the Australian climate. Both had fair skin, Dinny gingery hair like his father and Jerry, who was tall and thin, had fair hair and an Irish brogue more pronounced than that of his bespectacled brother.
In 1886 Denis and Jerry took up a selection of 3000 acres being offered at never to be repeated prices (one shilling per square mile) in an attempt to open up that part of Western Queensland. This selection became known as Ashmount Station.
CHAPTER THREE ASHMOUNT STATION
Situated 25 miles from Muckadilla, a small railway town thirty miles from the larger town of Roma, Ashmount Station derived it name from the beautiful Mountain Ash tree and the sight from the homestead verandah of a small mountain which stood out in the distance in the cloudless sky, its red terrain providing a colourful backdrop to the many trees clinging to its side. Tall blue grass – good for feeding sheep and cattle grew abundantly on this property, which was reached from Muckadilla by means of a tortuous black dirt road (dusty or boggy depending on the time of the year) and the opening and closing of eighteen gates. This road crossed the Little Muckadilla and Big Muckadilla Creeks, wound through the bush and black soil plains past a number of homesteads. Half the trip was through “Eurella”, a huge property owned by one of the big companies and was in the early days the last know halt of Leichhardt on his fatal expedition.
The early years on the property were filled with hard work, loneliness and privation. The brothers took it in turns (6 monthly) to continue working for wages in order to earn enough to survive and pay the rates. The person who remained on the property, minded the sheep, cleared and fenced the land.
These young men were pioneers in the true sense of the word, often sleeping out with the sheep, relying on the dogs to protect them from the dingos. Like so many others who had taken up a selection, their initial shelter was a primitive dwelling, a makeshift creation using the materials at hand – bark from the trees wired to poles formed the walls and roof and until the dam was constructed, water had to be carted from Topaz creek which ran through the property close to where he bark hut had been erected (ultimately tanks were used for domestic supply).
As the property improved and expanded, the bark hut was replaced initially by ‘the kitchen’ a more substantial dwelling built of galvanised iron and timber. One end was divided into a bedroom and living area, with the other end sporting a wood stove strategically placed in the middle of the room. Then (on the Northern side of ‘the kitchen’), a small wooden house consisting of four rooms and a front verandah. Some years later this became the Mens’ Quarters, when the large homestead was build.
A road leading to other properties and outposts of civilisation separated the house and its surrounds from the dam situated in the area known as Plain Paddock – so named because of the open countryside, ie plain country. Beyond Plain Paddock were two paddocks reputedly named after the outlaws, The Hogans (John Hogan was a member of Captain Thunderbolt’s gang) Little Hogans and Top Hogans. Top Hogans was a clay pan used for racing horses. Originally owned by Don Grieve, it was a picturesque place with weeping gum trees laden with white blossoms and the pretty silver Myall Tree. Plain Paddock and Little Hogan were home to huge patches of wild lime trees, the fruit made delicious jam and cordial.
Most of the paddocks were named. Where the cattle were kept there was Apple Tree Paddock and Scrubby Paddock, with another huge dam and a variety of trees. Acquired sometime later, Archbank upper and lower paddocks, formally owned by another member of the Grieve family, Bob Grieve (a huge man – Jock Grieve’s brother) was a favourite picnic place. Family fishing expeditions often went down to this reach of Topaz Creek in lower Archbank as Murray Cod, Yellow Belly and other fish abounded. An added bonus for the children was the koalas living in the trees in this area. No opals were ever found in the district, although Topaz, Sapphires and semi-precious stones were the reward for hard work.
The property was ideal for sheep, the wool produced being some of the finest in the land (topped the wool sales in 1929 and 1932). Horses and lots of cattle were also kept. These beasts ate down the tall part of the blue grass enabling the sheep to eat the rest. Rainfall proved to be insufficient for the growing of any crops.
The O’Sullivans were not without neighbours (albeit distant). One station called The Womals after a tree growing in the district, was owned by the Ferriers, who kept up their Scottish tradition with legendary New Years Eve parties – a real Scottish Hogmanay. The Womal tree saved many a drought stricken flock, as the sheep were happy to eat its leaves. The station owner would cut off the branches, giving the animals access to the leaves, which in turn enabled them to survive until the rains came.
Another station some five miles from Ashmount, was called Blairmack.
BLAIRMACK
This property was large and prosperous, with a comfortable homestead. The wealthy Jock Grieve (who could drink a bottle of whisky without turning a hair) and his wife, Emma, owned the station. Two beautifully groomed horses pulled their shiny buggy.
Before her marriage Emma (who incidentally died of pneumonia after they had sold the property to Colonel Murray and moved to a magnificent house on the heights in Manly in Queensland), was a Scott, the sister of Mary Scott (Henley) and thus the aunt of Elsie May Henley. Aunt Emma, the perfect lady, wore white skin gloves whilst hanging out the clothes! The Grieves entertained a great deal, afternoon teas being a speciality. They were a childless couple, so it is not surprising that Emma took more than a passing interest in Denis, his brother Jerry and in particular their marital state. The good aunt invited her niece to Blairmack for a holiday, where introductions took place.
CHAPTER FOUR THE WEDDING
On the 23rd December, 1914, Elsie and Dinnie were married, in Christ Church, Milton – A wooden church with a slate roof and a witches hat turret. The wedding party was large, all of the Henley children being a part of the entourage.
Mrs. Critchley, the dressmaker, who was a regular visitor to the Henley household, worked overtime to create the beautiful gowns worn by the bridal party. Her pleasant disposition never failing, her angular body never tiring, with never a wisp of hair escaping from her neat bun.
The bride’s dress was exquisite – a dreamy white embroidered voile creation. Scattered orange blossom in the front of her dark hair held the long tuille veil in place. A large and trailing bouquet completed the outfit.
The dresses of the attendants were also mainly white. Sister Lily, as head of the haberdashery department of the large emporium, Alan and Starks, kept a look out for ‘just the right trim’, with the result that the bridesmaids’ dresses were made of white Broderie Anglais material with long sleeves and bows in appropriate places. Each attendant wore a large distinctive hat and carried a bouquet similar to that of the bride’s.
The flower girl also in white Broderie Anglais, had an embroidered trim of that material at the yoke and hemline. A departure from white in this outfit came in the pink lining and the little pink bows attached to the yoke. White socks and white canvas shoes trimmed with a pearl button were anchored to the feet by a strap over the instep. The crowning glory of the outfit being a hat made of tuille, trimmed with little pink daisies. A basket of flowers – complete with holding instructions added the final touch to this beautiful little ensemble which all but engulfed the five year old Norma. Even brother Cliff – on threat of death – managed to reach the altar without soiling his white satin suit.
However, many weddings are fraught with a touch of drama before the ceremony takes place and this one was no exception. It seems there was something of a communication breakdown.
The Transcontinental Hotel opposite the Roma Street Station was the accommodation usually chosen by Denis O’Sullivan when ever he came to Brisbane. However, as the newly weds planned to depart for ‘The Tweed’ immediately after the reception, Dinnie decided to stay at Logan’s Hotel which was situated on the river at South Brisbane. He duly arrived at this hotel with time aplenty before the expected church appearance.
As the City of Brisbane was something of an unknown quantity for them, it was decided that Harry (who incidentally had lost a leg when a tram ran over his foot), the oldest of the Henley children and the best man, should be responsible for transporting the groom from the hotel to the church.
With the excitement of the event mounting so was the turmoil taking place in the ‘highly strung’ Henley household with many family members trying to look their best. As a result, it seems that no one told Harry that Denis O’Sullivan had a change of accommodation plans and so he went to the wrong hotel. An enquiry at the desk of the Transcontinental revealed that, of course, no one by the name of O’Sullivan staying at that hotel. Harry’s mind was immediately filled with the worst possible scenario – how was he to tell his sister and indeed that mass of white organza manifesting itself as attendants, that it seemed a jilting was taking place. What his mother might do did not bearing thinking about.
Dinnie, on the other hand, was waiting to be collected at the Logan’s Hotel. As the moments ticked by a sinking feeling came upon him – had the fragile Elsie decided that life in Western Queensland was not the life for her. All the arrangements were in place for a honeymoon in Sydney. Harry drove around trying to find the right hotel and as luck would have it, Dinnie spotted him from the balcony and waved him down with a towel!
After a certain amount of nervous energy had been expended, the whole dilemma was finally resolved. The ceremony duly took place. Everyone wept. Norma, the flower girl, was sent home to a baby sitter and all the others had a wonderful time at the reception held in the fashionable Gresham Hotel.
At the conclusion of the festivities, the newly weds took a train to Coolangatta on the border of NSW, passed through customs in a horse drawn cab and on to the Tweed River where they caught a steamer to Murwillumbah and made their way to the lovely Hotel situated on the banks of the river. There they awaited the arrival of the large number of relatives (Sullivans) who had settled in that fertile valley and who all wanted to meet the bride. Finally, when the steamer bound for Sydney was expected, the couple caught the train to the port of Byron Bay, where as a heavy sea was running which made conventional methods of boarding difficult, Elsie was loaded onto the ship in a Bosun’s Basket!
The honeymoon over, Elsie and Dinnie returned home in a train which travelled via Armidale and crossed the Queensland border at Wallangarra.
The glow of the nuptuals and honeymoon was still in evidence when the couple arrived back at Ashmount Station.
CHAPTER FIVE THE NEW HOMESTEAD AND THE NEWLY WEDS.
Even though the two O’Sullivan brothers had toiled hard and long together to establish the property, when a marriage was pending, it seemed appropriate for Jerry to strike out on his own and to this end Dinnie bought out his share of the station and Jerry left Ashmount to farm his own property on the Tweed River.
The small four bedroom house (which also had a kitchen quite separate from the main dwelling) had also been set aside against the time Dinnie could afford to employ help. Quarters for a married couple, who were later engaged by the O’Sullivans.
So when Elsie arrived at Ashmount, there was a large new house complete with new stove and furniture for her to move into. As much as the young girl appreciated this home, it was not long before Elsie realised just how isolated she was. Separated from the noise and closeness of a large family and the companionship of her workmates, the silence and space of this new environment engulfed her. Dinnie was often away for long periods, moving sheep, mending fences – she was often quite alone. Alone to master the stove, alone to learn how to be a station cook, alone to bake bread, regardless of the heat and the flies and the unfamiliarity of all this domesticity.
It was not long before an S.O.S. was dispatched and the Henley family, who it seemed were always short of money, responded by allowing little Norma, now aged five and a half, to accompany her sister and brother in law on the train journey which would change her destiny. No one considered the social and psychological impact a transplant of this magnitude would have on this small child. No one considered if leaving her parents at such a tender age would nurture a feeling of being unwanted. Norma cried and cried. The kind hearted Dinnie humming ”Over the Waves”, rocking her on his knees, and promising her riding lessons.
Apparently as much as Dinnie loved music, he could not sing in tune and the only song that he could hum was “Over the waves”. He subsequently sang it to all his children.
Surrounded by a high wire fence, the homestead, painted beige and green with a tin roof sheltering the house and front verandah, was typical of the area. A hall divided the dwelling in two, allowing access to the bedrooms, lounge and dining room. The passage opened out into a large breakfast room with a bathroom on one side and the kitchen on the other. Steps from the kitchen led to the backyard.
The bedrooms in the front of the house were occupied by Norma on one side and Elsie and Dinnie on the other. A doorway off the main bedroom opened onto a large sleep-out where in the years ahead the many O’Sullivan children (all boys) were accommodated.
Next to this main bedroom was situated the lounge and dining room. Fine oak furniture and a pianola graced this room, the latter providing the after dinner entertainment on many an evening. The family would gather around the Beale pianola and lustily sing the hits of the day:
“My Little Grey Home in the West”.
“Ramona”.
“Let the Rest of the World Go By”.
“The end of a Perfect Day”.
Another bedroom next to Norma’s room was used by Mr. Denis O’Sullivan Snr. The old gentleman, (who died in 1915), rather than leaving with Jerry, stayed with the married couple, spending most of his last days sitting comfortably in a lounge chair in the breakfast room, where he would attempt to hook the terrified Norma with his walking stick each time the child had need to pass his chair. The breakfast room was large and the hub of the house – its dimensions were further increased when a new kitchen, store room, wash house and gauze meat house were built high on blocks and quite separate from the main house.
The heat was dry and relentless with Coolgardie safes being the only means of keeping anything cool. Salt meat was often on the menu. Elsie would try to make the meal as palatable as possible by drowning it in a sea of white sauce and onions. Despite the existence of fly wire – flies were everywhere. At the first hint of food, they would appear in droves from, it seemed, out of nowhere. There were occasions when it was necessary for the assembled company to eat under the protection of a mosquito net, this being held in place by a hoop fixed above the table.
Civilisation came in the form of a rose bed in front of the verandah. Rainfall permitting, vegetables too were successfully grown on the bathroom side of the house. The rich chocolate soil with sheep manure aplenty being conducive to healthy plants. Household water was pumped by a windmill from the dam.
On the kitchen side could be found the Earth Closet toilet and an enormous shed. A child’s delight. The shed contained saddles, bridles, an old sulky and the wagonette, which at that time was the only mode of transport for the family. Many years later (1928) Dinnie bought a “Delage” – maroon with a canvas hood, considered the epitome of luxury even though it must have been totally unsuitable for the dusty environment. The wool shed was also the home of Joe the Carpet Snake. He was a huge python – green and red like a Persian carpet coiled up near the bales of wool. The wood pile was also in this vicinity as was (in time to come) a fully enclosed tennis court made from ground up ant hills.
Beyond the back gate grew a large pepperina tree where horses could be tethered in comparative comfort against the heat of the day. Further on from this tree was the four bedroom house and further on still, the original little bark hut.
CHAPTER SIX MUCKADILLA
An artery of life, the Western Railway, ran through the town of Muckadilla, 344 miles from Brisbane. The train station consisted of the stationmaster’s room (which was also the bank and post office), together with a room, complete with seat, where hopeful travellers awaiting the twice weekly mail train could rest. This railway siding boasted no platform, those alighting from the train needed to be in good physical condition – rather surprising as Muckadilla was recommended to tourists as a health experience,due to the healing properties of the waters and mud emanating from the artesian bores situated some 50 yards at the rear of the Hotel.
Directly opposite the Station Master’s office was the Hotel. It was a big rambling place with lounges, dining room and coffee room together with many bedrooms connected by covered walkways and was often overflowing with patrons even though the accommodation offered was considered quite primitive for the invalids partaking of the sulphorous waters. The public bar – no women allowed – was housed 50 yards away in a slab hut. The thirst of weary travellers was quenched by means of beer, kept in a keg draped over with a wet corn sack cooled by a strategically placed fan. Women and children congregated in the more genteel surrounds of the coffee room, station hands and labourers in the dining room, where a reasonable meal of roast lamb (or possibly goat on occasions) was served.
The artesian bores (which enjoyed a popular revival in the 1990’s), were owned by the Queensland railways, which promoted their health giving properties (for rheumatism in particular) INCLUDE POSTER no doubt in the hope of recouping the cost of extending the railway to such remote parts.
An article by E.W. Scott which appeared in the Australia Medical Gazette of October 1909, compared these hot springs to those in New Zealand. However his description of the baths and the ensuing treatment was not altogether encouraging.
“The artesian water was struck at a distance of over 3,800 feet below the surface of the ground and is led from the standpipe into a bathhouse of one room roughly constructed of galvanised iron, and the bath itself of wooden staves surrounded by a platform…… The water issues from the bore at a temperature of 124 degrees and emits an appreciable odour of H 2 S. Having let the water cool to about 110 dgrees, the patient enters the bath and stays in it for a variable time, from 10 to 20 minutes. The water gives an unctious feeling to the skin and poduces a very warm glow with a free secretion of sweat, which is increased by drinking the bore water at the same time. The sweating contiues for about an hour after immersion. Two baths a day are as many as any invalid should take (one is enough to begin with) as the immediate effect is depressing. While in the bath the patient usually loses any pain and some stiffness, allowing much greater range of movement in affected joints. After leaving the bath the stiffness returns. Unfortunately there is no cooling room. The bather must rapidly dry himself, wrap up well, and walk to his room and spend over an hour cooling down between blankets on his bed. Bathing is however suplementary to drinking the water. It has a not unpleasant saline flavour with a distinct aroma of H 2 S. A tumblerful drunk every 10 or 20 minutes with a walk in between for 4 to 8 tumblerfuls, according to individual capacity, should be done first thing in the morning before breakfast and repeated again before the midday and evening meals. The effect upon the bowels is usually constipating, if anything, but few find it relaxing.”
The consumption of all that bore water before each meal must have suppressed the heartiest appetite and kept the hotel food bills to a minimum. Never the less many claimed a ‘cure’ after this treatment. One can only wonder if the summer heat which must have turned the tin bath house into an inferno, or the icy July winds assailing the pickled bodies hastening to nestle between the blankets helped those ailing to feel better on their return to home comforts.
Health-cures aside, to those living on the out lying stations, Muckadilla with its pub, store and hall was for many a means of survival both mentally and physically and the coming of the mail train afforded much excitement for young and old alike – in particular the 9pm train to Brisbane (which ran on Monday and Thursday) as the Bar at the station opened 30 minutes before the arrival of the train.
CHAPTER SEVEN STAFF AND STATION LIFE.
Initially all work on the station was undertaken by the family. Elsie cooked for the team at shearing time – Dinnie attended to the mustering, fence mending and all the other hundreds of jobs to be done for the welfare of a successful sheep station. For Elsie, a great deal of time was spent keeping the place free of dust and preparing meals.
A cow provided the station occupants with fresh milk. Dinnie undertook the milking, placing the milk in a big round dish to enable to cream to set, later to be skimmed off and made by hand into butter. Bread was baked every second day, Elsie made her own yeast from potatoes kept in airing boxes under the house. The potatoes attracted the lethal brown snakes and these unwelcome visitors were lured to an untimely death by means of a saucer of milk. Dinnie would stalk them shot gun at the ready.
A speciality of the house was called “Heavenly Hash”. This dish took care of left overs. Onions and hot sauce were added to minced left over lamb; placed on a large meat dish, then surrounded with hard boiled eggs. Salad and mash potatoes accompanied this meal. On the side of the wood stove, a copper tank ensured a constant supply of hot water. The kettle always on the boil. If the Kelpie dogs started to bark, Norma and Elsie knew visitors were coming. The canine warning gave the twenty minutes needed to tidy up and get the scones, brownie cake or damper in the oven.
Despite having a river on the property, water was often in short supply. Tanks which were covered with gauze to keep out the frogs and snakes, collected the rain for domestic use.
After Jerry left Ashmount to set up a life for himself on the Tweed River, the station had prospered sufficiently for help to be hired and Mr. and Mrs Camflynn were settled in to the afore mentioned four roomed house. By this time the O’Sullivan children had started to arrive – all boys as it turned out in the true Sullivan tradition. Bill the first of the six, arrived in 1916. Mrs Camflynn, a fat jolly soul helped Elsie with the ironing, cooking and washing-up. Great care had to be taken when pegging nappies on the line – the soil was black and full of bindii prickles. Many a nights entertainment was spent removing these treacherous prickles from a bunch of errant nappies.
Norma was a regular visitor to the Camflynn household as Mrs Camflynn was a ‘soft touch’ and allowed the fascinated child to rummage through her glory box full of ‘treasures’ – the said box being a prized possession which travelled everywhere with the nomadic couple. Mr. Camflynn busied himself with the endless chores attached to station life.
However, the time came for this couple to move on and in their place came Vincent Pollard. Vincent anxious to escape the unpleasantness of a marriage break-up was attracted to the isolation of the place. Although engaged originally as a stockman, he proved to be a whizz at fence and gate mending. It was also his job to ensure that the kindling box and the box for larger pieces of wood were full. The wood stove had a voracious appetite and Elsie was quick to remind Vincent if the supply of wood was low. His tall rangy figure with grey-blond thatch toiled away – his pants tied at the bottom with string against the prickle intrusion.
Vincent was also responsible for the daily transport – he brought the horses into the paddock near the homestead to enable those who needed them to make a choice for the day, the unwanted animals were let loose to laze and graze. The property was surrounded by a ‘dog’ fence to keep out the dingoes. This fence was high, the bottom being dug deeply into the ground to ensure safety for the sheep. It was imperative for this fence to be kept in good order. Vincent was also the boundary rider who might be away for days checking the fence for holes, checking the dams and creeks for bogged sheep. Elsie would pack him a swag which included the ever faithful salted meat. Vincent was a kind man and many times brought back baby or injured animals. On one occasion he handed his sock to Norma and in it was a baby bandicoot.
Life started early on the station, Elsie would provide a massive breakfast for Dinnie and Vincent – bacon, eggs and chops. While they were consuming this fare, she would be packing their lunch for the day. During the week, Vincent had his evening meal in his own home. On Saturday he would join the family for dinner which was usually followed by a game of cards. No radio was in existence in those days, it was a lonely life for the boundary rider.
The family made it a rule that for dinner a certain dress code should be observed. Although Vincent tended to his own washing, little ironing took place and many a shirt was ironed by Elsie when he was making a trip into town. These trips into town proved to be the man’s undoing. Dinnie would lend him a horse for the 25 mile journey. The long suffering horse being left with the mail man, Mr. McFarlane, who had taken up the post when the Lingleys sold the Hotel and relinquished the mail run.
Vincent would book into the hotel for full board. On doing this, he would hand over his pay cheque, drinking his earnings until the hotel keeper advised him that all the money was gone. Then, it was back on the horse to ride back to the station to earn enough money to repeat the whole process. Quite a tragedy really.
Vincent’s lack of female partner meant that Elsie had no home help. By this time Norma was old enough to fold nappies, clear the table and learn to make scones.
CHAPTER EIGHT MAIL DAY AND PROVISIONS
Every Saturday afternoon the dogs would herald the arrival of the mail man, Frank Lingley originally and then after he relinquished the job, Mr. McFarlane. The approaching sulky and accompanying pack horse generated much excitement, bringing newspapers, letters and often a small parcel of goodies for Norma, sent to her by her mother in Brisbane. The O’Sullivans received coloured catalogues from the large department stores in Roma and Brisbane. To facilitate ordering, each picture was given a number, together with the size and colour of the merchandise if applicable.
In those days all provision were ordered from Roma and if necessary left in the goods shed at Muckadilla. The mail train would toot to let those expecting merchandise know that it had arrived. The guard on the train would have the parcels ready – he knew all the stations and their whereabouts. In many ways it became a social event, as those expecting provisions would congregate long before the train arrived.
On one occasion Dinnie provided a great deal of anxiety for his sons. Dinnie always escorted his boys home from school. He had a first class sleeper and put the boys into second class sleepers as he said they never slept and they and other school boys were off at every station. As usual the conductor woke Dinnie up with a cup of tea and a slice of hot buttered toast at Roma and hovered around to make sure he alighted at the righted station (and he received a tip). The train stopped at Bungeworgorai to take on water, next at Hodgson (some 20 miles from Muckadilla), then Bindango. Everything was pitch dark as it was in the early hours of a winter’s morning. When they reached Brindsop Siding (which enjoyed no lighting what so ever), the conductor advised Dinnie it was Muckadilla and put him off the train. By the time the hapless traveller realised this was not the case, the train had moved off. Fortunately some railway workers were camped at the siding and for ten shillings one of the workmen was glad to run Dinnie down the few miles to Muckadilla in his old T-model Ford.
However, at the Muckadilla train station there was great consternation when the boys discovered their father’s absence. The Station Master, Mr. Wruck was a family friend and refused to allow the train to proceed. He established where the conductor had put Dinnie off and was about to make the train reverse to pick him up when the boys saw the headlights of the old Ford shining along the road and knew it was their father.
CHAPTER NINE THE BULLOCK TRAIN
At the conclusion of shearing, a momentous event occurred in the life of eight year old Norma – the bullock train arrived. Joe Ross was the man in charge of the team which hauled the wool to the Muckadilla Railway Siding whence it was transported to the Brisbane wool sales.
Joe and his team visited many of the stations in the area, taking their rest wherever possible. At Ashmount Station a small paddock of 4 or 5 acres, situated quite close to the house was set aside for the beasts to be unharnassed, fed and watered.
Joe bunked in the little house set aside for hired help – often with the married couple already established there. Meals were taken at the Homestead. The visit was never for long – often only one night.
When it was time to move on, the wide-eyed Norma firmly planted behind the iron fence by her sister, watched in wonder. Joe Ross called out a name as he cracked his whip and as if by magic, a great lumbering beast would come forward and stand in its correct place in front of the wool wagon. This process was repeated until all the team was assembled and ready to be hitched to the big wagon filled with the O’Sullivan’s livelihood.
More magic was to follow. The wool wagon went without being driven by anyone. Joe would crack his whip next to the beasts closest to the dray, the bullocks would lurch forward urging the others to start moving and away they went. Joe rode on his horse alongside. This kind of rapport would be hard to emulate today.
CHAPTER TEN EDUCATION
The train held excitement and anguish for the O’Sullivan boys as it carried it them to holidays and carried them to formal schooling – initially at Sherwood Primary School and then to Church of England Grammar School where they were boarders. The anxiety started even before they railway station was reached as wet weather could mean a boggy impassable track and there were times when the platform was not reached in time.
The journey into Muckadilla often took some two hours as Dinnie would stop to have a yarn with the driver of every car passing in the other direction. Elsie could often be heard to warn – “You had better get an early start, as there might be a storm and a tree might be blown over on to the road and you might run into it and be killed”.
For Norma, the train meant only good things – a trip to see her mother, a trip to Sydney or a visit to the holiday house in Cleveland. Norma’s education was haphazard. There is evidence to the effect that Norma Henley and her brother Cliff (b.1906) were enrolled at Sherwood State School in 1915. This was the year old Mr. O’Sullivan passed away, so there is every possibility the child returned to her parents’ home at that time. Cliff, incidentally, was Dux of Sherwood State School and won a scholarship to the Brisbane Grammar School. He was prone to tantrums and would fling himself to the pavement should his poor long suffering mother refuse to buy him something he had seen in a shop window.
Bill, the O’Sullivan’s first child was born in the January of the following year and Elsie, as was customary for country confinements, returned to stay with her mother in Brisbane some three months before the child was due. Three other children – John, Jerry and Denis (Nick) – followed at two yearly intervals with the same procedure taking place. Each time Elsie returned to the station, Norma would accompany her, so that in her early years formal education lacked continuity.
As the O’Sullivan boys grew older a governess was employed (there were four different occasions further down the track when the services of a governess were called upon). Prior to this time, Elsie had been teaching Norma to read and write. No doubt Dinnie’s student teacher experience was helpful in this regard. In this instance the governess was Millie Stott, although to call Millie a governess was to use the word loosely. She was pretty with dark curly hair and a vivacious personality, was the same age as Elsie and had indeed worked with her at McWhirters. Millie was described as ‘well brought up’, being versed in elocution, able to play the piano very well and if the children were good, poetry would be recited after dinner.
In 1921 Bill travelled to Brisbane for each of the primary school terms, boarding with Grannie Henley at the family home called “Euroka”. This process was repeated for the next three years and during which time another unwilling O’Sullivan boy joined the ranks of pupils at the Sherwood Primary School. As much as the boys loved their grand mother, they were reluctant to leave the freedom of life on the sheep station. This aversion was acutely felt when they were boarders at Church of England Grammar School.
As luck would have it, in 1924, Norma’s oldest brother Harry, who owned the house next door to his parents’ decided to sell up and move to a new house (called “The Myalls”) in Cormack Street with down hill access to the Sherwood Railway Station – easier on his wooden leg! The sheep station was prospering, the wool bringing a fair price, so Dinnie decided, as the O’Sullivan tribe were overflowing out of their Grandparents’ house, it was time to buy a house of their own in town. Harry’s house (called Yapunyah) was chosen as a suitable dwelling and and the O’Sullivans moved in toto to Brisbane. Due to the excellent skills and trustworthiness of his station manager, Jim Barry, Dinnie was able to spend a considerable amount of time in Brisbane with Elsie and the boys, returning to the outback at key times like shearing and lambing.
Elsie loved to have the opportunity to wear her good clothes, attending the horse races and other ‘dress-up’ places. Norma, of course, returned to Brisbane to live with her parents, attending St. John’s School and taking private piano lessons from the nuns at the Convent at Corinde. A collection of relations would head for Ashmount Station for the school holidays and no doubt Norma would be with them.
During this time, those of school age in the O’Sullivan family all attended Sherwood Primary School with their cousins Sid and Bert Henley (Harry’s boys) and Mabel Horn (dark haired and elegant) who was the daughter of Elsie’s sister, Lily.
In 1925 Desmond O’Sullivan (the 5th boy child) arrived. The Brisbane set-up was an ideal one, with Grannie Henley next door to lend moral support when Dinnie needed to return to the station. Sadly it all came to an end in 1928, when Jim Barry left the property and the newly appointed manager proved to be a rogue. Dinnie and Elsie returned to the sheep station and “Yapunyah”, their house in town was rented (until 1946).
For the three older boys, Bill, John and Jerry this meant they would continue their education as boarders at Church of England Grammar School. Boarders’ long weekends would be with Grannie Henley as Ashmount Station was too far away for such a short break. This new form of education was not welcomed by the boys. There was always a spate of stomach cramps when it was time to return to school. Bill was particularly reluctant to leave the bush setting.
Further down the track, Denis (Nick), Desmond and ultimately Brian (born in 1929, the youngest and last of the O’Sullivan children) all Boarded at “Churchie” as the school was called. For Desmond this proved to be fatal. At the age of nine, he developed a sore throat. Despite the advice from his older brothers that the best course of action was to visit ‘Ma Campbell’ in sick bay, the young lad feared the isolation this would bring and suffered on without a word, until the Diptheria was so entrenched, there was no saving him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN HORSES
Dinnie’s promise to teach Norma how to ride was kept. However, initially this did not prove to be a rewarding experience for the child who fell off day after day. A Shetland pony purchased from Mr. McPharlane, also proved to be a trial. The animal was bad tempered and difficult to manage. They named him King Billy, to remind them of their happy holidays (see Chapter 13). In those days it was considered vulgar for ladies to ride astride. Dinnie was of the opinion that riding side sadle in a skirt was too dangerous, so astride it was – Norma wearing trousers her hair tucked up under an old felt hat and looking for all the world like a boy. During this learning period, alighting was achieved by sliding backwards.
Dinnie was a born teacher, he instilled in the child a knowledge of bush survival. What to do if lost; how to find the way home – wax matches and a knife were to be carried at all times. Norma became a skilled rider, racing around Hogan’s paddock, a dog at her side. This lone rider was given a curfew – the isolation made it very necessary for the ‘home before dark’ rule to be taken very seriously.
As Norma grew older and more proficient as a horse woman, she was allowed to help with the mustering. It just so happened, a new stallion was needed for the station, Elsie had little interest in horses, the babies were enough to keep her busy, so on this occasion Norma went with Dinnie to the horse sales. For the horse-mad girl, it was like heaven.
The stallion chosen, a race horse from NSW, was called “Baby Humphreys”. A bit of a misnomer, as he proved to be wild and quite bad-tempered. Dinnie always had an axe handle with him when he rode this bay stallion with the black mane and a wild look in his eyes. At these particular horse sales, the groom looking after “Baby Humphries” asked Dinnie if he would like to buy a horse for the ‘young lady’ and promptly produced a light bay coloured mare with a long black mane. It was love at first sight. This beautiful horse was a true lady, a far cry from the bad tempered Shetland – they called her “Lady Ashmount”.
Norma was also responsible for the well being of three other horses. Brownie, as the name suggests was plain brown with a black tale. Although he was not particularly comfortable to ride – his awkward walk joggled the rider around, he was a wonderfully quiet horse waiting patiently should the rider fall off. The second, the beautiful “Blue Star” – a dapple grey horse with a white star was a well bred jumper with a gentle nature. And finally “McGinty”. His thorough bred mother disgraced the family by mating with a clydesdale. Dinnie was so disgusted, he wanted to shoot the foal. A plea for his life was heeded and as a reward this quietly mannered chestnut, heavily built with four rather large feet, proved to be a steady walker, just right for mustering.
A wagonette, a bit like a utility car without the covering was used to transport the provisions from the railway siding. Two small clydesdale (or possibly Shire Horses) were used to pull the load. A fat bay horse called “nugget” and “Indian”, a plum coloured horse with a white blaze and white feet. On the return journey, when the horses reached the ‘Little Horse Paddock’ gate. they knew they were nearly home and would gallop off, leaving Norma (whose job it was to open and close all of the eighteen gates beween Muckadilla and Ashmount Station) stranded.
The ‘Little Horse Paddock’ gained its name simply because it was small enough to be able to catch a horse in it! A least one horse would be kept in this paddock in case an emergency arose. This horse was used to bring in other horses if family members wanted to ride or when the work of the day involved animal assistance. A dray plus tank was used to haul water for the family during drought conditions – “Nugget’s” services were enlised for this.
Dinnie’s favourite horse was “Minash” – a race horse whose progeny are still racing and winning – her death whilst having a foal was a great sadness to him. No vet was available to help sick animals which meant that “Dermount” was rarely ridden. He had staked himself and all the application of ointment to his wounded side did little to soothe this frightened animal. “Tom” another bad tempered but good working horse shared the load with “Solash” and “Solora”.
Although “Baby Humphreys” had originally been purchased as a sire for the Ashmount Station mares, because of his unpredictability, the stallion on Blairmack Station – “Glenacre” – was the preferred sire. By this time, Blairmack was owned by Colonel Murray, the most decorated soldier at the First World War and a crack shot.
If not ridden regularly the horses became wild. Dinnie tried to remedy this by alternating his mount on a regular basis. He would leave which ever mount he chose tied to the big Pepperina Tree in the House Paddock. The horse of the day would be unsaddled around 5pm, being then encouraged to join the other horses and no doubt recount the adventures of the day. In many ways the station and the family could not function without the services of the horses who were well taken care of.
CHAPTER TWELVE DOGS
Dogs were also a part of the mustering team and station life in general. The main two working dogs, “Dublin” and “Norman” were firmly disciplined – chained up outside when their services were not required. “Kewpie”, the third dog, had a different cross to bear – motherhood. This lovely long haired animal was rarely chained as she was constantly pregnant and spent most of her time in the harness shed with her pups. When the others went off mustering, she would cry to go with them. The dogs simply loved the adventure of a day out and would become very excited if anyone produced a saddle.
Norma’s dog was “Dublin” – a kelpie with longish black hair and a white blaze. When she wasn’t helping Elsie or playing with the puppies, Norma would ride off to all her favourite places and “Dublin” would take off with her. A special place to visit was the Bower Bird’s playground in the Big Horse Paddock. This bird had stolen one of Elsie’s milk jug covers, attracted by its edging of coloured beads. Other shiny objects and pieces of coloured glass adorned this area. Norma would ride to within twenty metres of the bird, then leaving the horse tied to a tree, would sneak over to a vantage spot, lie down and watch this fascinating bird play.
The most accomplished sheep dog was “Norman” – an ordinary looking plain black kelpie, but Dinnie’s favourite. Dinnie was definitely the boss and although he had an easy going nature, his temper was quick to flare, especially where dogs were concerned. Elsie, on the other hand, was soft hearted and would produce a shot gun in a menacing fashion if she felt the animals were being unfairly treated. All dogs were allowed inside during a storm. All dogs suffered when the prickle season arrived, often wearing little leather boots to enable them to function at all.