Adrift
Caldwells
Hi Gill,
Actually, disappearing is a family trait. Daniel The Smuggler left the family home in Singapore at 18 (actually, mum kicked him out for wild behaviour). He probably disappeared for years while playing pirate. Then his brother Henry Charles, the Chief Clerk of the Court in Singapore disappeared overnight in 1856 with his family (to avoid gaol for unpaid debts and stealing the court’s trust funds). He turned up at Macao, an escape later revealed to be financed and orchestrated by brother Daniel.
Years later, when Henry had become a lawyer in HK and settled his debt with Singapore, Daniel Edmund, my great grandfather and Daniel Sr’s eldest, articled with Henry, became a lawyer, worked at it for years and hated every minute, then on May 30, 1890, he was a no-show in court and was never heard from again. His wife and 3 kids were hung out to dry (I believe they were in England at the time). I don’t know how they survived. Oh, did I mention…Daniel took the trust funds from his law practice with him. Do you suppose he secretly conveyed money to the family? I’d like to think so.
And finally there’s Gus (Daniel Augustus Frederick Caldwell, 1873-1940). Gus was a ladies man. Hung out in the trendy neighbourhoods of London (Strand) and then found himself in Singapore, probably leaching off family there. All my family knew was that he apparently disappeared into the jungles of SE Asia. Years went by and then finally his sister Rose Mary (my grandmother) received a letter from him.
Let me see if I can dig it up…. yes, here it is. Prior to this, in 1926, Gus wrote Rose Mary a short note inviting her to write back if she was interested in hearing his news. Rose Mary did write back. She had not heard from her brother in at least 6 1/2 years and no doubt had thought him dead. Here is Gus’s response.
Who’s who:
Caruthers: husband of Rose Marie’s sister Rene
Bernard: Gus’s son by an earlier relationship (don’t know what happened to him. He disappeared in Java)
Rita: Chelsey’s grandmother
Millie and George: Rose Mary’s sister and brother in law
Frank: my father, Rose Mary’s eldest, Gus’s nephew
5 Mount Sophia, Singapore
6th September/26
My dear Rosie,
Many thanks for your welcome letter received today. It came a day or two after my birthday as we have not heard from each other for such an age. I must also thank you for the snap of yourself which I was pleased to get.You do not look very well but what matters as long as you feel fit.
I am so pleased to learn that the dear old mater is still alive and well enough to go to the Movies! I shall write to her by this mail also as I am having half a day off for the Races. I am sorry the Earthquake in Japan caused you any loss but I hope now that Sid is making a start for himself but all serious losses will be recovered in due time, provided the Soviets will allow British trade to be carried on. Fancy little Vi spliced! Good girl, I wish her all the best of luck for the future, and that of her husband. Any retinue yet? Send snaps as they turn up!
Marie and I are both OK and have 3 girls and a boy. We lost our dear Vera aged 9 months a few days after arriving in Canton. Edna is 6 1/2 years old, Laura 4 1/2, Allan 16 months, and our dear baby Rita 2 months 10. You see we are kept busy looking after the youngsters and providing for them. We will send you snaps as soon as we get some taken.
I joined a Dutch Company about 2 years ago upon my arrival from China and I am pleased to say I am getting on well and have done very well for them.
We had a terrible time in Canton some months before we left as the Chinese became so anti-foreign and even life was insecure. This country has always been a lucky place for me and I do not intend returning to China again. I only hope the everlasting heat will not chase me out of the country as it did before after being a planter for 7 years. I have been out East for 20 years without a real change but seem to be pretty fit all the same and looking far younger than my age 53!
Marie has not been to England for many years but we all hope to pay a visit to the Old Country one of these days.
I had a wonderful experience in the Philipines after I left Japan, where I was exploring with some Americans and British for Guano, which we found in enormous quantities in deep caves within Cliffs in Luzon. The trouble in China put an end to our efforts as this was the market we intended for our stuff. It was nerve ruining business to be pulled up and down the face of cliffs several hundreds of feet, and then exploring the Caves where there were millions of bats which attacked us with fury. We eventually took electric lighting plants up with us and gas masks, as the smell of ammonia suffocated us, and the darkness was awful.
What is Carruthers doing at Home? I hope he is getting on well and that Rene and the children are well too. You do not give me any news about Millie and George. Where are they and what are they doing? Please let me have their address as I should like to write to them. Where is your eldest son? [Frank] Is he still in Japan?I never hear from Bernard [Gus’s son] but I suppose he is still in Java tea planting. My mother-in-law and her son left for England a few months ago and are staying at Hamstead. He is a planter and we expect him back in November ____ after his holiday. We are staying at present with Marie’s Uncle and Aunt. They have a beautiful house and grounds but we shall probably take another house of our own near the sea early next year.
I am pretty busy what with one thing and the other, as I am trying to make some money for the future, but it is difficult to save. Do you ever see or hear anything of Bee. Please do not mention anything when [or] if you see her. The past is the past and I did my best, but the position was hopeless.
Well dear no more now, we must keep in touch with each other as life is shortening. Give my best love to Mater and tell her that although she is out of sight she has never been out of mind, as I have always prayed for her, but I am a terrible corespondent.
With best love to all and trusting to hear again from you soon,
Your affectionate Brother,
Gus
I myself, I am pleased to report, have not as yet disappeared, despite the temptation from time to time. Son Robin is clearly afflicted with the same gene and disappears routinely to various parts of the world. He expects to leave again shortly to the wilds of northern Canada.
Speaking of Robin, I asked him today what the state of Daniel and Mary’s graves were. He said Mary’s had been completely redone and was in perfect shape and that Daniel’s was in good shape, needing only a bit of cosmetics. Although one must take Robin’s view of perfection with a grain of salt, it doesn’t sound like they’re falling apart. Anyway, I’ll check with Sharon in HK and see what’s up.
I’ll let you know how the Chelsey visit goes.
Cheers, Peter
St Helena Bruces
Correspondence with Ian Bruce who has ancestry in St Helena and whom I queried for a possible connection. None apparent. Ian lives in Huddersfield Yorkshire and is a book publisher. He has considerable knowledge of the history of St Helena. Suggests I look into the Ancestry DNA analysis which provides more rigorous proof of connection. I could, for example, compare my code with his.
Feb 11, 2019
Hi Ian,
I was thrilled to get your prompt and helpful reply. In light of your busy days, it was kind of you to take the time. Thank you. I had noted the absence of Elizabeth Watts on your tree but anxious to make inroads on mine, I added Elizabeth, per the trees of Peter Gyton and Joan Mary Campbell. Then blithely went ahead and added half the population of St Helena. On receiving your email I had an uh-oh moment and went back to check the sources for Elizabeth. There are none! So for the month of February (not a particularly inviting time in this part of the world anyway) you may well find me sitting at the computer deleting half the population of St Helena from my tree — one by one. Joan’s source is simply not credible to me; Peter I will contact for his source. Ah me.
It’s interesting to hear that you have or are aware of considerable info on the Caldwells. I have very little. Several years ago I canvassed the St Helena Yahoo group for info but got nothing. If you could steer me in the right direction I’d be most grateful. No rush, whenever the smoke clears for you.
Yes, I have done the ancestry DNA test. I have not explored the code. I will do so and let you know what I find. Many thanks for the info Ian. You are clearly a details person. From the Elizabeth Watts matter, I evidently, am not.
Yorkshire, is it? Damn shame we didn’t meet sooner. My wife Randi and I were in Yorkshire (York mostly) in September. Did not see you around but did not go to Huddersfield. That could account for it. I’ve got deep roots in Yorkshire — Richardsons, the chocolate people, Wighams, etc. — Quakers all. More roots in Birmingham and Worcester. Well, all over England and Ireland, actually.
Here’s a silly account of our trip (which was grand): www.newearthvillage.com/
Thank you again for your help Ian. Let’s stay in touch. Attached are the promised edited images. All the best, Peter
Feb 14, 2019
Hello Peter
After centuries of interbreeding between white European farmers/merchants/
This wide range of colours and ethnicities has already been a feature of St Helena for several centuries. In my experience, “native” is not a common term on St Helena. However, it is safe to assume that white children born on St Helena would not be described as “native”. Because of the level of interbreeding, there was a wide range of skin colours and it is hard to know how dark the colour of children described as “native” would be.
Far more common is the term “free” and almost all such persons would have slave ancestry. That said, anyone claiming ancestry from St Helena is highly likely to have some slave blood within them. Some slaves were freed even in the 1600s, although they were not given easy lives by the ruling white population and were encouraged to leave the island. St Helena was one of the first EIC/British colonies to start the process of emancipating its slave population, but for that very reason was one of the last to end it. Whereas most owners were compensated by the Government for the loss of their slaves, at St Helena the slaves were effectively expected to pay for their own freedom via a loan which was passed onto their owners. Each liberated slave was encumbered with a crippling debt that would take years to pay off. Whereas most colonies liberated their slaves overnight, the process took many years at St Helena and did not end until about 1836.
Regards Ian
Feb 14, 2019
Once again Ian, thank you for your very cogent and interesting piece on racial intermixing on St Helena. My DNA analysis shows 2% SE Asia and 5% China, both probably a mix of my St Helena connection and notably my Chinese GG grandmother (Hong Kong). As they say, the great thing genealogy teaches us is that we are indeed, all one. It is also a reminder about (a) how brutal we human beings have been and continue to be to one another and (b) how determined and successful we can be to build a better world — slaves and slave owners, warriors and saints, dictators and rebels, often all in one tree. It is certainly true of my tree. Such an odd species, we are.
All the best, Peter
Caldwell D 1788
20 Mar 2017: Son Robin is in Penang searching for the grave of Daniel Caldwell, his 3x grandfather. He writes of his findings:
So I found him, kind of. On a tip I visited the Northam Road Protestant Cemetary in George Town – final resting place for many of the colonial up and ups.
Scoured the cemetery looking at every gravestone. Many are now illegible, others have wasted away to rubble, still others destroyed during the Japanese bombings and occupation during WWII. Found a few Bruces, Lawrences and Mitchells, but no sign of Daniel.
Next stop was the heritage society. They had a fabulous pictorial encyclopedia on the cemetery, complete with photojournalistic write-ups on all the known quantities there. Still no note of Daniel, but in perusing the appendices I found his name listed in the “additional known burials” section, meaning there was record of his burial but no (legible) grave to speak of.
Cool to know he’s there buried somewhere tho.
Also found an eerie headstone for an R. Bruce (see attached), and Sir Francis Light, the founder of the colony.
6 Attachments (images of the cemetery)
Caldwell H C
This is a note to son Robin who visited Penang and in this case, Hong Kong to research the relatives. I make comment on Henry Caldwell, Robins third great uncle, born on the island of St Helena, deep in the South Atlantic Ocean.
Hi Rob,
You won’t find Henry in the cemetery. He died comfortably in England. Henry, your great, great, great uncle (Daniel’s brother), had his own intriguing story which I relate below as a quote from page 590 of the History of the laws and courts of Hongkong by Norton-Kyshe:
On 2nd June, 1859, a brother of the now famous Mr D.R.Caldwell, the Registrar-General and Protector of Chinese, named Henry Charles Caldwell arrived in Hong Kong from London by the ship Northfleet. He had previously been Registrar of the Recorder’s Court at Singapore and was a fugitive defaulter from there, having some years before embezzled trust moneys in his official capacity. Ever since his detection in 1856-1857 a backed criminal warrant from Singapore had been lying in the hands of the Superintendent of Police at Hong Kong for execution at the moment of his expected arrival in the Colony, his wife and family having preceded him. Yet on Mr H.C.Caldwell’s arrival, not only was he not arrested but actually allowed to depart out of the jurisdiction the same night for Macau, where his brother, Mr D.R.Caldwell, had previously obtained a residence for him and where he was to carry on the business as a notary and general agent amongst the Chinese. By what influence Mr H.C.Caldwell was thus allowed to escape the meshes of the law is not apparent, but suffice it to say that the matter did not escape Mr Anstey, who at once brought it to the notice of the Secretary of State. The local press also took up the subject in strong terms, but Mr H.C.Caldwell was allowed the greatest immunity from any possible interference.
How he got out of his difficulties and whether he or others on his behalf “compounded his felony” is enveloped in mystery, but he eventually found his way back to Hong Kong and entered the office of Messrs Cooper-Turner and Hazeland, solicitors; then he articled himself to Mr R.C.Owen, the barrister (who under the provisions of Ordinance number 13 of 1862 had elected to act as an attorney), being admitted some years after as an attorney and solicitor of the Court. He soon made for himself a lucrative practice and became one of the leading solicitors in Hong Kong. Another of the wonderful incidents in regard to the history of this Colony. Mr H.C.Caldwell having amassed a competency retired to England, and died at his residence at Twickenham, England, on 28 June, 1883, at the age of sixty-eight.
From: https://archive.org/
Seems pretty obvious that Daniel pulled strings in mighty high places to save his brother’s neck. Daniel was intensely loyal to his friends and family. When the notorious Mah Chow Wong was finally convicted of possession of stolen property and given 8 years of hard labour, Daniel tried everything in his power to ease the sentence or at least improve Wong’s living conditions in prison. His efforts did not go unnoticed by his enemies, notably Wiliam Anstey, the Attornal General, who argued publicly that Daniel’s defence of Wong was further evidence of his corruption.
Caldwell Henry Charles
More about Henry from the website Gwulo, Old Hong Kong:
Born about 1814, a son of Daniel Caldwell (b.1788 St Helena d.1828 Penang Straits Settlement) who married Mary Manay (b.1797 St Helena d.Singapore) on St Helena on 06 Aug 1814.
HC Caldwell’s brother Daniel Richard Francis Caldwell (b.19 Sep 1816 St Helena d.02 Oct 1875 Hong Kong) married in 1851 in Hong Kong to Mary Ayow Chan (1834-1895).
Henry Charles Caldwell married in Singapore on 23 Jan 1838 to Eliza Lecerf. They lived at Caldwell House (aka ‘Chijmes’). They had a daughter Eliza Juliet.
In Singapore, Henry Charles Caldwell was apparantly a sworn clerk (1836-39). a senior clerk (1839-55) & a registrar (1855-6).
Apparantly, he left Singapore in 1856 due to financial difficulties (ref.Singapore Street Names by Victor R Savage & Brenda Yeoh 2013).
In 1863, HC Caldwell is listed as a notary public in Queen’s Road, Hong Kong (ref. The China Dir. 1863) with Roger Carmichael Robert Owen (Barrister).
In 1867 William Henry Brereton http://gwulo.com/node/21937 jo
Henry Charles Caldwell died in 1883 at Heath House, Twickenham, Middlesex, England. Probate was granted to his wife & daughter.
Caldwells Info
Peter Bruce to Robin Bruce who visited the Public Records Office in Hong Kong ti research the Caldwells
More about Henry from the website Gwulo, Old Hong Kong:
Born about 1814, a son of Daniel Caldwell (b.1788 St Helena d.1828 Penang Straits Settlement) who married Mary Manay (b.1797 St Helena d.Singapore) on St Helena on 06 Aug 1814.
HC Caldwell’s brother Daniel Richard Francis Caldwell (b.19 Sep 1816 St Helena d.02 Oct 1875 Hong Kong) married in 1851 in Hong Kong to Mary Ayow Chan (1834-1895).
Henry Charles Caldwell married in Singapore on 23 Jan 1838 to Eliza Lecerf. They lived at Caldwell House (aka ‘Chijmes’). They had a daughter Eliza Juliet.
In Singapore, Henry Charles Caldwell was apparantly a sworn clerk (1836-39). a senior clerk (1839-55) & a registrar (1855-6).
Apparantly, he left Singapore in 1856 due to financial dificulties (ref.Singapore Street Names by Victor R Savage & Brenda Yeoh 2013).
In 1863, HC Caldwell is listed as a notary public in Queen’s Road, Hong Kong (ref. The China Dir. 1863) with Roger Carmichael Robert Owen (Barrister).
In 1867 William Henry Brereton http://gwulo.com/node/21937
Henry Charles Caldwell died in 1883 at Heath House, Twickenham, Middlesex, England. Probate was granted to his wife & daughter.
Cabin & Steerage
Assisted immigrants
Some immigrants paid for their own passages, but many had their fares paid by colonisation companies or the government. They travelled in steerage – a low-ceilinged space beneath the main deck. Those paying their own way were usually in ‘second’ or ‘intermediate’ cabins, or in a saloon cabin below the poop deck, at the stern. In 1866 the cheapest saloon fare was more than three times that of steerage. Steerage passengers generally outnumbered those in the cabins by 10 to 1.Class distinctions
Britain’s class distinctions continued on board. Privileged cabin passengers enjoyed more space, privacy and better food. When the Otago paused at the island of Madeira in 1879, fresh fruit was brought on board, but it was ‘all for the cabin’. Down in steerage, class resentment sometimes simmered. One reason given by the surgeon of the Christian McAusland (1872) for keeping cabin passengers off emigrant ships was that ‘an ignorant and unreasoning lot of agricultural people are made doubly discontented and dissatisfied at only viewing the cabin victuals, livestock and fresh meat etc. which they are unable to obtain’. 1
However, on many ships rigid class distinctions began to break down, anticipating New Zealand’s more fluid class structure. Some cabin passengers mingled with those in steerage. The explorer and writer Samuel Butler formed a choir on the Roman Emperor through which, he said, he was ‘glad … to form the acquaintance of many of the poorer passengers’. 2
Not all the cabin passengers approved: there were complaints about ‘the impudence of steerage’, and one remarked that ‘even the poorest imagine that they will be grand folk in New Zealand’. 3Conditions in steerage
Writing of the conditions in steerage, one cabin passenger commented, ‘Poor creatures, it is a horrible place between decks, so many people in so small a space, I wonder how they live’. 4 Steerage passengers slept in tiers of bunks. They were provided with mattresses, but not bedding. Bunk space was cramped, and tables and forms occupied the spaces between tiers. The headroom between decks could be as little as 1.8 metres.
Steerage was divided into three compartments: single men occupied the forward area, next to the crew’s quarters; single women were aft; and married couples were in the middle. Separate hatchways gave access to each compartment.The cuddy
When Michael Studholme named the first small hut on his Te Waimate sheep station in South Canterbury in 1854 he brought the nautical term ‘cuddy’ ashore. At sea, this was the saloon cabin at the stern, in which the wealthier immigrants travelled in greater comfort than those in steerage. The use of the word for a cramped but snug hut seems to be confined to New Zealand. There is also a surviving cuddy at Mt Gladstone in Marlborough.Church services
During religious services the separation between cabin and steerage was relaxed. On the Lord Auckland (1842) the captain initially read prayers to the cabin passengers in the cuddy (the saloon cabin), while the doctor read them to the steerage passengers and crew below. Later on this voyage, all the passengers assembled on the main deck for prayers. Finally steerage passengers were admitted to the cuddy for prayers.
Eventually it became usual for cabin and steerage passengers to form a single congregation. Shipboard concerts also brought passengers of all classes together as both performers and audience.Single women
On ships with all-male crews and single men as passengers, the character and future prospects of single female immigrants were thought to be at risk. Men were denied access to the women’s compartments, and captains were instructed to ‘prohibit familiarities’ between unmarried men and women.
When the Friedeberg sailed without a matron in 1872, a ‘serious breach of discipline’ resulted. Two men gained access to the single women’s compartment by night, but the surgeon judged it ‘more a case of frolicsome mischief’ than anything else. 5
The vulnerability of single women to the attentions of young upper-class men, who tended to look on single, lower-class women as ‘fair game’, was one argument against having cabin passengers on emigrant ships.
Source:Encyclopedia of New Zealand: http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/the-voyage-out/page-3
Chijmes Singapore
CHIJMESFrom Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaJump to: navigation, search
Coordinates: 1°17′42.5″N 103°51′06.5″E
CHIJMES (pronounced “chimes“, Chinese: 赞美广场) is a historic building complex in Singapore, which began life as a Catholic convent known as the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus (CHIJ) (圣婴女修院) and convent quarters known as Caldwell House (古德威尔屋). The complex is located at Victoria Street in the Downtown Core, within the Central Area, Singapore’s central business district.
This complex of convent buildings has a Gothic-style chapel. It was used as a Catholic convent for 132 years, with Caldwell House constructed in 1840–1841 and the chapel in 1904. The chapel, now a multi-purpose hall, is known as CHIJMES Hall (赞美礼堂), and Caldwell House, now an art gallery, have both been gazetted as national monuments. The complex has been restored for commercial purposes as a dining, shopping and entertainment centre with ethnic restaurants, shops and a function hall, providing a backdrop for musicals, recitals, theatrical performances and weddings.Contents
History
The CHIJMES Hall, designed by Father Charles Benedict Nain as a chapel, was completed in 1904.
In October 1852, four French nuns arrived in Penang after having travelled overland from their native country in caravans. Reverend Mother Mathilde Raclot, leader of this group, was to become a key personality in the early history of the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus on Victoria Street.
On 2 February 1854, the nuns sailed to Singapore from Penang on a mission to build a school for girls,[1][2] now known as CHIJ Secondary Toa Payoh. On 5 February 1854, they reached the island’s shores and took up residence at the first convent quarters, the now gazetted Caldwell House.
The nuns began taking in pupils only ten days after moving in, establishing the first CHIJ school in Singapore. Reverend Mother Mathilde staffed her school with sisters from the parent Society, the Institute of the Charitable Schools of the Holy Infant Jesus of Saint Maur. She dedicated 20 years of her life turning the convent into a school, an orphanage and refuge for women. Two classes were conducted, one for fee-paying students and another for orphans and the poor. Slowly, the nuns managed to restore the house into a simple but austere residence.
The Gate of Hope at CHIJMES
The first chapel of the Convent, which had been built around 1850, was in such a bad condition that it was necessary to build a new one. At the end of the 19th century, the Sisters started fund-raising by various means for the new chapel. The old one was becoming so dangerous that the Sisters decided to celebrate mass in Caldwell House.
Father Beurel acquired all the nine lots of land between Victoria Street and North Bridge Road, originally belonging to the Raffles Institution, that would constitute the entire convent complex. He presented them all to Reverend Mother Mathilde.
After being granted land in 1849 for the formation of Saint Joseph’s Institution, Father Charles Benedict Nain, a priest at Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, tried his luck once more for the building of a school for girls. He was refused but, undaunted and after returning re-inspired from his voyage to France in 1852, he was engaged as an architect for the construction of the chapel at the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus and, on behalf of the Roman Catholic community, was in charge at the same time of the construction of the extension of the Saint Joseph Institution. The construction of the chapel started in 1901 and it was completed by 1904. Father Nain was highly involved in the worksite. He is the author of all the fine architectural details found in the chapel.
Much of the knowledge about the daily activities of the convent comes from seven volumes of diaries that were meticulously kept by convent scribes. These diaries cover over a hundred years of convent history, from 1851 to 1971; they are handwritten in French and entitled Annales de Singapour. From their observations, it is known that life within the convent walls was anything but sedate. Apart from daily chores, the nuns also had to organise and attend mass, grade papers, maintain the buildings and the grounds as well as raise money to support their activities.
Intricate floral and bird motifs on the Corinthian columns at CHIJMES Hall
Saint Nicholas Girls’ School was established in 1933. The school first held classes in the four old bungalows which formed the Hotel Van Wijk of the 1890s. It later moved into its new premises at the town convent in 1949 when the school was incorporated in the convent grounds. The school has since relocated to Ang Mo Kio in 1985.
The last religious service was held in the chapel on 3 November 1983, after which the chapel was deconsecrated and the town convent was closed. Careful restoration work has preserved much of the original structure of the convent and the chapel. After almost five and a half years of conservation and construction work, what was once the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus and the seat of education for generations of Singapore girls, has been converted into a plaza of theme retail and food and beverage outlets interspersed with ample outdoor spaces and courtyards, cloistered walls and long, covered walkways. This haven in the city hub of Singapore, now known as CHIJMES, is a S$100 million project unmatched for its location and unique ambiance. It won a Merit Award in the UNESCO Asia Pacific Heritage Awards for Cultural Heritage Conservation in 2002.
The Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus Chapel and Caldwell House were gazetted as a national monument on 26 October 1990.Caldwell House
Caldwell House was purchased for the convent by Father Jean-Marie Beurel, a French missionary, who also established Saint Joseph’s Institution, the former site of which is now the Singapore Art Museum, and the Cathedral of the Good Shepherd, where he was the parish priest.
Caldwell House was designed by George Drumgoole Coleman, and is an example of his Neoclassical style. The bay on the upper floor became the sisters’ lounge.Architecture
The interior of CHIJMES Hall, showing the arched ceiling and stained glass windows
The Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus is distinctive for being an architecturally self-contained city block in Singapore. It contains groups of buildings of different styles and periods in order to maintain a diversity in aesthetics. They are formed around courtyards and other expansive spaces, landscaped and enclosed with walls which scale with its urban surroundings.
George Drumgoole Coleman’s house built in 1840–1841 for H.C. Caldwell, a magistrate’s clerk, is the oldest building in this enclave, which also includes the Gothic chapel and Saint Nicholas Girls’ School buildings. It was in the Caldwell House that the nuns did their sewing, reading and writing for so many years in the semicircular upstairs room whilst the first storey served as a parlour and visitors’ room. The early Gothic style chapel has finely detailed works, such as the plasterwork, the wall frescoes and stained glass panels.
The grand Anglo-French Gothic chapel was established with the support of the Catholic community in Singapore and beyond. Designed by Father Nain, the chapel is one of the most elaborate places of worship ever built in Singapore. The chapel was completed in 1904 and consecrated the following year.
A five-storey spire flanked by flying buttresses marks the entrance to the chapel. The 648 capitals on the columns of the chapel and its corridors each bear a unique impression of tropical flora and birds.
A few of the 648 capitals on the columns of the Chapel and a spiral staircase along a corridor
The various buildings are related by design with the intent to form exterior spaces which would be pleasing for its users, and were used for church school activities until November 1983 when the school vacated the premises. The spaces contained within the whole block have been adapted for public use, and form one of the major buildings in the Central Area.
Caldwell House
Henry Charles Caldwell was partially raised in Singapore and spent the better part of his working career there as an officer of the court. Below is an excerpt from the book “Singapore Street Names: A Study of Toponymics” by Victor R Savage and Brenda Yeoh describing his house and his work.
Part of [Henry Charles] Caldwell’s house forms the major front facade of the left side of the gothic church now known as CHIJMES, an acronym for ‘Church of the Holy Infant Jesus.’ The house was built in 1840 by George Coleman and was commissioned by H C Caldwell, the senior sworn clerk to the Magistrates. It was one of the last buildings that Coleman completed. Caldwell House is one of only two houses dating back to the 1840s/1850s that remain in the colonial district — the other being the old Parliament House that was built for the trader, John Maxwell, by G D Coleman in 1826-1827.
In 1854, a group of Sisters from the Holy Infant Jesus Order (also known as Les Dames de St Maur or CHIJMES) set up home in Caldwell’s house and opened a school within a short span of two weeks. By 1892 the convent had 360 pupils, 200 orphans, 30 poor women, 26 babies and over 40 Sisters. The convent also became an orphanage with babies abandoned at the doorsteps of Foundlings Gate (now preserved as the Gate of Hope). In 1983 the Town Convent (CHIJ) finally closed and shifted to Toa Payoh. Henry Charles Caldwell held several government positions as sworn clerk (1836-1839). senior sworn clerk (1839-1855), and registrar (1855-1856). He left Singapore in 1856 because of financial difficulties.
Footnote: I conveyed this information to my genealogist friend Gill Wallis in England who has been helping (make that guiding) me with the Caldwell family search. She writes back:
“I couldn’t believe it when I clicked on Henry’s Singapore House. I cannot say I can remember the house exactly ( It is now an art gallery ) in Chijmes. But we always go to Chijmes when in Singapore ( last there in 2011 ). I’ve searched through all my old photos hoping I’d taken one but I didn’t. I have a book written by a young Singaporean girl who spent the war behind the convent walls of what is now called Chijmes. It is called A Cloistered War by Maisie Duncan. However I googled ” Photo of Caldwell House in Chijmes ” and you get several images which give you an idea of the architectural style. Chijmes stands for Church of the infant Jesus, I believe. Apart from the art gallery there are several restaurants and craft shops. The church has been turned into a wedding chapel. At least it was when we were there Gill”
Atalanta Voyage
This is the diary of John Fowler, age 15. He describes the daily events on board the ship Atalanta when in 1856, he, his parents and his two sisters voyaged to Melbourne, Australia. He was writing to his younger brother William who would later join the family. A very similar experience would have been had by the Lawrences who made the same journey seven years earlier in 1849. Many thanks to Joanne Hickey of Queensland Family Trees for making this diary available.
OUR VOYAGE TO THE AUSTRALIAN COLONIES –
Being a diary of incidents from the beginning to the end of the voyage in the ship ‘Atalanta’ from Liverpool to Melbourne -BY J. FOWLER.
WEDNESDAY, 26 MARCH 1856. Hauled out of Dock at 1/2 past 10 in the morning, the vessel lay all night at anchor in the river Mersey off Liverpool.
THURSDAY, 27TH MARCH, started on our voyage, when at dinner many people sick for the first time (smooth sea) a lot of noise and confusion on deck and below, and going, every-body seemed in each other’s way, the sailors singing and weighing anchor, setting sails, the Government Inspectors came on board previous to our starting to exercise the crew and inspect the ship to see that all was right (this was a mockery, as they merely came on board for a quarter of an hour and mustered the passengers to answer their names).
FRIDAY, MARCH 28, rather rough, a great number of passengers sick, passed in sight of the Irish coast, rather foggy.
SATURDAY, MARCH 29, Still rougher, got out of channel and stood fair out to sea, We fell in with a Man of War in full sail, (3 Decker) a beautiful sight.
SUNDAY, MARCH 30. A beautiful calm day, no wind, a very pretty and homely scene to see the passengers grouped about in little clusters, talking, reading and telling anecdotes and tales of their past lives.
MONDAY, MARCH 31. Much sickness on board and a deal of rain, verry rough, passed a Dutch vesfel and signalled to her and found she was bound for Greenwich.
TUESDAY, APRIL 1st. Verry wet and miserable morning, cleared up in the afternoon, wind against us but changed in the evening to the S.W. Over took a Dutch vesfel. A verry rough night, water poured on some of the passengers beds. Tins, pots, cans of treacle, pots of butter, dishes, plates, knives, forks and everything tumbling on our head’s while asleep in bed, finished the night by sleeping on the mess tables in the centre of the ship, coiled up in a blanket and counterpane.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2nd. Still rougher day, wind in south west-going 12 1/2 knots an hour, a little rain, a great many sick on board.
THURSDAY, 3rd APRIL. Wet morning, but dry afternoon, ordered to hang our beds and bed clothing on deck to air. Saw a ship in the distance homeward bound.
FRIDAY, 4th APRIL. Beautiful bright sunshine morning, all seemed happy and joyous, except the invalids. Going in 11 knots an hour.
SATURDAY,5th APRIL. D o-Do.
SUNDAY,6th APRIL. Child died at two o’clock in the morning, buried same day, funeral service read by the doctor after which we had Divine service on the poop.
MONDAY,7th APRIL. A verry fine day, a vesfel in sight in the distance homeward bound. G. Ward is elected as school master today.
TUESDAY,8th, APRIL. Do. Vesfel still in sight about 10 miles off.
WEDNESDAY,9th, APRIL. A beautiful fine day this morning, there was a general search through the ship of all berths and bags and persons of the passengers in consequence of the loss of a pocket book containing about 15/- in money and some papers of importance belonging to one of our single young men.
THURSDAY,10th, APRIL. Fine, fine day, but little wind. (A row on deck between Scotty, a sailor, and the black cook ( More noise than work).
FRIDAY,11th APRIL. A beautiful day, passed to fine large vessels, homeward bound, (at a distance).
SATURDAY,12th, APRIL. Fine day again, nothing of importance occurred.
SUNDAY, 13th APRIL. A bright morning. Sailing past service, at 12 o’clock, thought more of that then of the service, being verry hungry. Saw a whale and hundreds of flying fish, they are very curious things as they jump up out of the sea and fly some distance then plunge in again as soon as they are far enough away from their enemies. Caught one of the fish on deck, it is about the size of a mackerell with the usual fins and a pair of beautiful wings of gills on each side of the body.
MONDAY, 14th APRIL. Sailing well, a beautiful day.
TUESDAY, 15th APRIL. Do. Do. Same two sharks today playing round the vessel this evening, the sailors, who are a first rate jovial lot of fellows, had some rare fun by dressing themselves as soldiers with white jackets on and handpikes for guns, they mustered up a splendid military band…….. can’t read next line…(out of tune) 4 fife, (very harsh) and 2 fiddles and one of the sailors with a large tin Baking dish, they marched around the Deck 2 or 3 times saluting the Officers as they passed with the guns and playing the air of See the Conquering Hero Comes amidst roars of laughter from all of board.
WEDNESDAY, 16th APRIL. A fine warm day, going along nicely and about 20 miles from the line, a great many Porpoise fish play around the vessel in hundreds, and numbers of the beautiful little fish called the Portuguese Men of War sailing past us.
THURSDAY, 17th APRIL. An exceedingly hot day, the passengers had all the boxes up out of the hold for a change of clothing, a rare scene of noise and confusion, calling out the names of the owners of the boxes, the sailors swearing at the confusion and mess about the ship, men, women and children running in all directions after their boxes all over the deck, the young children in their glory pulling, hauling and tumbling over the boxes. Fathers swearing, mothers frightened to death that their Babes will get smacked or get packed up in mistake with the clothes and set down in the hold. Single women sorting out their finery, unpacking a duck of a bonnet. In presently comes the order of the ‘ cord up the boxes’, as a squall is coming on. Then see the confusion and fun, everybody hard at it. Packing up as fast as they can, the husband swearing, the wife scolding and screaming after their young wretch of a boy, who has bolted down the hatchway with his best Sunday toggery and is slyly putting it on over his other clothes in the berth, much to the dismay and horror of his mother, who is starting off in pursuit is looking everywhere but in the right place for the young villain. Then there is the shrill voice of some young girl begging of you to cord up her box, has the dear things inside, might get spoiled if should we ship a sea. A little further off is the picture of dispair on the countenance of a young lady, who has unfortunately got the end of her box stove through and who is the verry picture of dispair, of grief, is looking at her beautiful bonnet and dress, which is entirely spoiled.
FRIDAY, 18th APRIL. Still hotter weather and a verry large shark following in our wake at the stern of the vessel, a disturbance about pumping the water from the ship use, the Doctor stopped all the younger man’s rations untill they pumped they said it was not fair that they should do all the work for the married men, but did not object to pump for the women, a rare lark, the women nobly offered to go on half provisions and give us the other half, 3 cheers for the girls and one cheer with groans for the doctor and Captain.
SATURDAY, 19th APRIL. Verry fine and hot, this is the most eventful day of the voyage. First of all, a young woman died who was only married on the day before she came on board, and who had left her home unknown to any of her friends. Next was when C. Ward was bathing on the end of a rope he let the rope slip and was plunged headlong into the sea, he being a good swimmer, he swam to the rope which hung by the ship’s side and pulled himself up, allright, without being hurt. The next scene was the funeral of the young woman who died thismorning, the scene was most impressive, to see the deck of the emigrant Vessel filled with all the passengers on a beautiful moonlight night, time 1/2 past 10 at night, the silver beams of the moon reflecting it’s bright rays on all around, nothing to be heard but the splashing of the waves against the sides of the vesfel. About the centre of the vesfel stands the 1st and 3rd mate holding half over the bullwarks the lifeless body of the young creature who perished thus so early in life. The body is sown up in a shroud and a cannonball placed at her feet and is lying on the wood bier covered with the colours of old England. Soon after the Captain and doctor are seen issuing from the cabin door attended by the constable, carrying lamps and prayer books. Upon their arrival the passengers gather around and the doctor then commences reading the beautiful but impressive Prayer for the Dead, after it is read about half through a sudden plunge was heard and the gentle being, who but a few short weeks before was life and all joyousness, had passed away from us and gone to that bourne from whence no traveller can return.
SUNDAY, 20th APRIL. The girls and women came out in their bright summer clothing, but it turned out to be a wet day, much to the annoyance of the bits of muslin and light cotton gowns.
MONDAY, 21st APRIL. A rare day of fun and frolic, this morning upon the passengers awaking and glancing round, the first thing they beheld was all their bedfellows with their faces blackened, everybody’s face being tattooed smeared all over with grease and soot, the roars of laughter as each one woke up and beheld their bedfellows with his face in that state, was deafening, the more so as he did not give it a thought for a moment to see whether his own as the same, but upon discovering his own to be the same the fun was tremendous, each one laughing at the other to see what pretty devils they looked. Great preparations on deck to receive old Neptune and his band, who shortly after arrived amidst thunders of aplause, attended by as mottly a group of pirates and water nymphs as you would ever wish to set eyes on. The scene at this moment is first rate, there is a large sail along the deck, 1/2 full of sea water, and suspended over it is a tub, cut to represent an armchair, around this the seamen are standing awaiting the orders of Old Father Neptune, who is seated on his throne (a cannon block on four wheels) holding in one hand to his Trident of Office and in the other a bottle of rum, which he continually plays to his lips much to the annoyance of the l loving patron of his life – Mrs Neptune – who keeps gently nudging his elbow to give her a drop. The costume of this lady is truly sublime and in pure taste for the latest fashion, imagine, a fair creature as black as ink and about 6 ft. 2in. high, dressed in a down made of sail cloth and highly ornamented with seaweed, drapery hanging in graceful flounces around her bounteous form, her hair is purely flaxen, being made of toe and hanging in graceful curls bounteous form. You must not believe that we saw all this, but it was only what the sailors said was witnessed on board most ships when they cross the line.
TUESDAY, 22nd APRIL. A wet day, but a verry hot, ship moving slowly. A laughable thing occurred on deck this day. One of the Irish passengers named Jack Sullivan was standing on the top of a grease tub to reach a rope and fell bang in, he came out a pretty beauty beauty smothered in grease and fat. More fun at night, a continuation of the blackening of faces and having found some of the passengers asleep on the deck we tied a rope around their legs and pulled them all around the ship, almost freightened them out of their wits.
WEDNESDAY, 23rd APRIL. Verry fine weather and good breeze, some thousands of porpoise fish playing around the vesfel, they appear to be about 4 or 5 ft. long. Saw a vessel homeward bound from Rio de Janero and a very large whale it seemed about 40 feet long. Child died and thrown overboard during the day. Two men put in irons for stealing brandy but let out again as soon as they were sober.
THURSDAY, 24th APRIL. Another child died at 1/2 past 7. …N.B….. It is a remarkable fact that all the children on board seem to gradually get thinner and pine away and die, more skeletons, it is really shocking to see the poor little things pine away and die in this manner, this is the 4th child died within this last 2 days, in fact it is getting so common we think nothing of it.
FRIDAY, 25th APRIL. Weather rough and stormy, ship rolling dreadfully upsetting all our breakfast in our laps, sending everything flying about our heads.
SATURDAY, 26th APRIL. Wet and stormy like yesterday, while waiting at the galley for our dinner a wave came over and nearly washed us all away, dinner and all and all the sea washed over the decks about 2 ft. deep in water and we had almost water enough to have to swim for our meat.
SUNDAY, 27th APRIL. Weather wet and stormy. A large ship seen this evening but too far away to speak with her.
MONDAY, 28th APRIL. Weather rough, lots of flying fish seen today and some very large birds following us. Going 13 knots.
TUESDAY, 29th APRIL. Still rough and lots of porpoises playing about the vesfel. One main sheet nearly blown away today.
WEDNESDAY, 30th, APRIL. Weather rough and heavy squalls of wind and rain.
THURSDAY, MAY 1st. Heavy breeze blowing but fine sunshiney day. There was a pretty but strange sight today, about nine o’clock in the morning there was a cry of land oh! And upon going on deck, we saw, at about 20 of 25 miles off, a small speck upon the ocean like a cloud and soon afterwards there were several descriptions of birds seen flying around the ship, some verry beautifully marked and verry large, measuring 8 or 9 ft. from tip to very of wings and about 10 flock, we came within 2 or 3 miles of it and it proved to be one of the Trinidad Islands, it seemed in a huge mass of barren rocks about 30 miles in circumference with here and there a small speck of green pasture. It was covered with birds, some verry beautiful in plumage, I should dearly like to have gone ashore there.
FRIDAY, MAY 2nd. Fine weather, we have been going this last week 13 or 14 knots an hour.
SATURDAY, MAY 3rd. Verry calm. A few birds still following us and another child died on board again today.
SUNDAY, MAY 4th. Another child this morning, heavy showers. A whale and several large birds seen today and a white glass bottle seen floating about in the sea.
MONDAY, MAY 5th. Fine and calm. Another child died.
TUESDAY, MAY 6th. Rough sea. Ship rolling verry much, pitching and tossing everrything upside down with a heavy sea washing over her
WEDNESDAY, MAY 7th. Heavy breeze blowing, large birds still following us.
THURSDAY, MAY 8th. Wet and heavy breeze.
FRIDAY, MAY 9th. Do. And stormy with a large ship in sight. Going 13 knots.
SATURDAY, MAY 10th. Do. Do. The mate caught three large birds today, the first was a cape hen measuring 4 ft. from the tip of each wing and similar to a duck colour, dark brown. The second bird was smaller and quite black. The last was a large Albatross, 9 ft from tip to tip of wings and the colour of a swan and a very noble bird.
SUNDAY, MAY 11th. Find breeze blowing, rolling verry much and a lot of birds in sight.
MONDAY, MAY 12th. All the boxes up again today for a change of clothing repetition of the same scenes before, much fun and laughter on board all day.
TUESDAY, MAY 13th. Rough weather, rolling dreadfully, the usual upsetting of everybody and everything including hot coffee and soup all over us at dinner time.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 14th. Verry rough, the same scene as yesterday, lots of whales seen and a few birds following, some of the whales kept starting backwards and forwards under the ship, they were about 40 feet long.
THURSDAY, MAY 15th. Rough and fair breeze, lots of whales.
FRIDAY, MAY 16th. Thousands of Porpoises seen playing around the vesfel this morning.
SATURDAY, MAY 17th. Heavy storm, the way it has about 50 ft. high and the sea washing over the decks. This is a splendid sight, the passengers could neither walk nor stand on the decks or lie comfortable in their beds. Many of them asked us if there was any danger, which made me laugh to see the long faces they pulled.
SUNDAY, MAY 18th. Little calmer but verry rough still.
MONDAY, MAY 19th. Verry rough still and the usual tumbling and upsetting of things. A child died thismorning.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 21st. Fine day and rough.
THURSDAY, MAY 22nd. Another child died, they generally throw them overboard a few hours after they die.
FRIDAY, MAY 23rd. Weather rough. 2 children died.
SATURDAY, MAY 24th. Heavy sea. Then another child died.
SUNDAY, MAY 25th. Weather verry rough.
MONDAY, MAY 26th. A Little calmer but stiff breeze.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 28th. Dance on deck by moonlight.
THURSDAY, MAY 29th. Rather rough, lots of tumbling about as usual. We opened a concert this evening at half past 6 in the evening, our opening was the ‘ Sailors are Jolly Good Fellows’; next ‘ Old King Cole’,’ Tally Ho’ and 30 or 40 other good songs.
SATURDAY, MAY 31st. Rather rough, our usual concert in the evening, we carry on these concerts everry night.
SUNDAY, JUNE 1st. Verry rough and several large birds following us, a good stiff breeze, our main top sail yard nearly carried at seven o’clock this morning during a heavy gale, the yard arm snapped in two about 2 ft. from the centre and came tumbling down with an awful crash.
TUESDAY, JUNE 3rd. Good breeze. Child born and died shortly afterwards.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4th. Ship rolling. Charles Frewman, one of the crew fell and broke his collar bone and dislocated his shoulder.
THURSDAY, JUNE 5th. Rough weather. Another child born and is expected to do well.
SATURDAY, JUNE 7th. A dead calm, no wind.
SUNDAY, JUNE 8th. Calm and good breeze, sailing 13 knots an hour.
SATURDAY, JUNE 14th. At 9 o’clock in the morning there was a cry of land ho! ahead and soon afterwards we saw several bunches of seaweed, pieces of wood etc, floating on the water. About 12 o’clock. we could see the Cape Otway lighthouse and the hills behind covered with trees. Dear Brother, just imagine the joy and pleasure that was felt by all on board when we knew that we had reached a land of promise, the land that was long looked for by all on board. We lay beating about a few miles off land all that night, during the evening there was a steamer passed within a few yards of us, there were a great many on deck to welcome the strange messenger.
SUNDAY, JUNE 15TH. Sunday morning as soon as it was light we found ourselves in a large bay with land on both sides of us, soon afterwards we set more sail and steered right up the bay. At 2 o’clock we fell in with a pilot boat that took us in. We had to pass through a narrow opening where the Government Doctor and Inspector came on board and enquired whether we had any disease on board but we had none for if we had we would have to lie quarantine for a month or more, as we passed in the bay we saw an emigrant ship lying in quarantine, the pilot said that ship had been there for 5 months and that she had cholera on board and she was 4 months coming out.
We dropped the anchors at 2 o’clock this afternoon being only 78 days on our passage, this is considered verry fair, as most ships are above 100 days we beat the mail ship Shalmanar, which left Liverpool 4 days before us and which arrived here 7 days after, there was a bet between our Captain and the Captain of the Shalmanar, which could get there first.
MONDAY, JUNE 16TH. Monday we lay in the harbour about 2 miles of Williams town, we caught at see Melbourne about 10 miles off up the river. If the Government Inspectors came on board today to see how many passages there were. We had soft bread this morning (what a treat) dear brother, just imagine what a treat it was to have soft bread and fresh meat again after being without for near 3 months. Happened to get the chance to stand on the steps by the side of the vessel to pass the bread up, you may well think how much we eat while about this work, I am most sure myself that I eat a 4 pound loaf and then wanted more.
TUESDAY, JUNE 17TH. Tuesday lay in the harbour eating and drinking all day long. Upon awakening thismorning we were told that nearly all the crew had left the ship, that they had in the night tied the cabin and the mates cabin doors, and taken one of the lifeboats and gone ashore. As soon as they had landed they took their clothes, thrown the paddles and rudder overboard and left the boat to sink or swim. The boat was afterwards found ashore on the beach by the police, 4 of the sailors have since been caught and sentenced to 6 weeks imprisionment.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18TH. Wednesday we are all busy thismorning, packing and rigging up in the best style to go ashore. Just imagine the bustle and confusion on deck and below, men, women and children running about deck to find their boxes, some busily employed in packing up their beds and bedding, others dressing up in the best style, until at last we see the steam tug and lighter come to take us up with river, at about 10 o’clock we began to put the luggage on board and at 3 o’clock in the afternoon we left the vessel, the single women being on board the steam tug and the married people, single men, luggage etc on board the lighter. When we left we gave 3 hearty good cheers which made the harbour ring. Going up the river the first thing that we noticed was the canvas tents, the tea plant, soon after this we came to where there was a few houses and we were astonished to see the mud, and the men wearing boots up to their thighs. In a few minutes we came to the place for landing our next game was to see which could get ashore first after being away from it so long. I was one of the 3 first that gave a leap, for we had to jump about 6 feet, we were then astonished to see what mud we had to go through, every step being over our shoes. We had to walk about three quarters of a mile to the depot, when we came there we were astonished to find what a pigstye it was, it was only built one story high, being built of thin raps off wood, the roof being made of the same. You may well suppose what a place it was, when I say that we could lie in our beds and count the stars through the roof or see the grasshoppers through the sides. One good thing was that we got plenty to eat while we were there. We left the depot on Monday, June 23rd. But it was only going from one wooden house to another.
Father has taken a house in Collingwood, about half a mile from the City of Melbourne, we were surprised at first to see so many houses built of wood with the roof of the same material. Our house is about as long as grandfather’s kitchen, being divided in the middle by a canvas petition the sides were also of canvas nicely covered with paper, the fireplace is just like they are at Coombe, in which they burn wood because coals are verrry dear here and we can buy wood brought to the door for One Pound a ton.
Well our next thing was today to get work. We went to look a cooperage and the foreman said that he would give us a job. Well the next morning we went out about 2 miles to put up a house for this man, but the road was verry muddy, every step being verry near up to the knees, we soon began to build our wooden house, our first thing was to put down a dozen piles for our house to stand upon, the place being up to knees in mud and water. You would laugh if you were only to see the place that our master lived in, it being worse than the stables at Coombe, you may well think what a place it was when I say that it was only a tent made of rags and canvas old blankets, counterpanes, shirts, dresses etc. etc. all patched up together. You would hardly think that some of the places here are fit for pigs much more than human beings.
We left this works on Saturday, 29th, and had work to go to in a cooperage.
Today, July 14th. The wages here are verry good, farm labourers get 10 shillings per day for only working 8 hours, stonemasons, carpenters and other trades get from 12 to 15 shillings per day. People here can live as cheap as they can at home, meat being only from 2 1/2d. to 3 pence per lb., cabbage etc. are verry dear being from 4 to 6 pence each, bread and flour is as cheap here as at home, but butter is 1/6 to 2 shillings and 2/9 per lb.
The country as far as we have yet seen is verry good,the land being verry rich, Melbourne is a pretty town or city as they call it here, it is a great deal larger than Exeter. We have had some verry heavy rain here lately, it has hindered the trade verry much. They says that the road to the diggings is impassable, the mud being in some places for 5 or 6 feet deep. We read in the papers sometimes of men getting up to the neck in mud.
Dear Rosie: Illness
It is now one year before Sydney and Rose Mary marry. Sydney seems passionately in love with his Rosie and desperately misses her. And she clearly loves Sydney or would not be making regular visits. There is, though, an element of mutual over-dependency implied in the writing — dependency on Sydney’s part for the constant affections of Rose Mary and perhaps dependency on Rose Mary’s part for the comfort and security Sydney proffers that help her cope with a stressful world.
8 Grove Road
Brixton
15 Aug 96
My own darling Rosie,
It seemed such a long time before I had your letter. In fact I was awfully disappointed not having one on Wednesday morning as I knew I should not get one till Friday but I thought you would have written as soon as you had mine. It does not matter dear.
Well Sweet, how have you been getting on this week without me – I miss you very much, darling and it seems ages since I saw you. So you had a pleasant day at Clacton. What a pity I could not be there, although you did very well without me, I dare say. Now I suppose you will keep you word and come up to town Friday for the wedding on Saturday, eh dear! I want to enjoy myself but I cannot (really) unless you are here, so do try dove. Your need not trouble about my razor strop. When you come up on Friday will do, and also my songs dear, I should like to have them now as the piano has been tuned.
I intended writing you last night only we had a letter to say that Pater was very ill, so I went over to see him. They tell me he will never get up again, poor fellow. He can scarcely speak now. Ma and I are going over [to the hospital] tomorrow. We can see him at any time we like.
I am afraid this is not a very nice letter, dearest, but you must excuse it this time and I will make up for it in the next. I should like to hear from you on Monday if you have the time before church to write. I shall think of you Sweet about one quarter to eleven tomorrow morning going to church. How I wish I were going with you.
Today I have been working very hard in the garden to get it nice for Saturday. I have had just about enough.
Well darling Girl, please forgive me for sending you such a short note and don’t forget to let me have yours on Monday even if I do not deserve it. Remember me to Mr. and Mrs. Isitt and tell them I still miss the Parsonage very much.
Dear Rosie: Nerves
This is the first mention of Rosie’s ill health. She appears to get anxiety attacks, which Sydney makes reference to in many of his letters to her. This was apparently a life-long condition that made it very difficult for Rosie through the coming years to cope with the demands of a young family.
61 Birchanger Rd,
Tuesday, Oct 15, 1895
My dearest Rosie,
I got your letter yesterday but I did not quite understand about your coming up. Will it be Friday or Saturday? I would rather you came to Croydon or Norwood if it is possible. But still, if you have to come up by a very slow train it is hardly worth while, is it dear? Cannot you catch the ten minutes to nine train and change at Sutton. That is a fast one. Only stops at Chichester. The one I came up by, I think it stops at Sutton. You would be able to find out better than I should. Anyway dear, do as you like. I will meet you wherever it is.
I suppose you are beginning to feel quite excited. Do not get over-excited and make yourself ill. How have you got over your bad attack? Quite well again, eh? You think I should get tired of you being home all day. You think so. Perhaps you are afraid of it. In that case, suppose I do go out and only come in to meals, eh? What would Rosie say to that?
Well, dear girl, I have nothing to write about. Let me know in good time about the trains. With fondest love from
Ever your loving Sid
Dear Rosie: Christmas
Rosie appears to be living with a Mr. and Mrs. Islitt. My guess is that she is a boarder there while she attends school in London. Her parents are likely back in Hong Kong — a common practice in the day and repeated with Sydney’s children. From the age of 13, Frank, the eldest, was left for years at boarding school while his parents lived in Japan.
Thursday, 12 Dec 1895
My darling Rosie,
I got your two letters. I was so sorry I upset you, but you were waxy with me too, were you not? Anyway, we will not mention anything more about it, although you say you have not quite forgiven me. But I know what that is trying to tease eh?
I am so sorry Mrs. Isitt has been ill. You must do all you can for her and get her well again. Let her have rest. Remember me very kindly to her and also Mr. Isitt. Is he Well?
You never mention your aunt in any of your letters. How do you agree with her this time? [meaning(?) how are you getting on with her now?] It is unfortunate not being able to come down to you this Christmas, isn’t it dear. But you must come up to town to me if your good people can spare you. I will not mention any particular day as Christmas comes on a Wednesday so shall leave it to you to come either Monday or Tuesday. The Mater will be pleased to see you any time but let me know well beforehand so that I can meet you at the station. I can arrange to be out anytime between 12 and 3 o’cl;ock.
Well dearest girl, have you quite got over the “upsetting” I caused you? I did not mean to do it, you know that dear. But I am afraid I am a bit thoughtless. On the other hand, I had no idea it was so long since I wrote you. Well, forgive. Will you not, I shall have to give you some extra “Christmas Kisses” to make up for it, shall I not? Can I give you more than I did the last time you were here, do you think? I don’t think so as I shall not be here all day to bother you as before.
I went over to see the poor old Guv. last Sunday. He’s just about the same when we went over (Eva and I). He was in the porter’s room sitting [in] an armchair [near] the fire as comfortable [as he could be]. Altho’ perhaps it may seem strange to you, I had to do a small grizzle as I said goodbye to him. He asked Eve when she was coming over to see him and said “Your Ma will always be glad to see you.”
Well, good night dear love with heaps of love and kisses from your everlasting
Sid
Dear Rosie: Nikko
Tokyo
10 Aug 1911
My darling Rosie,
I ought to have written you in time for today’s mail but only had time to send a few cards to the kiddies. I expect, therefore, you you will be rather disappointed. I’ve been awfully busy lately. One or two have been away from the office and it has made it such hard work to get things up to date.
I had your letter on Saturday just as I was leaving for Nikko for the weekend and so did not have much time for writing you a long yarn but was able to send to the Post Office for the money order for 2 pounds 10 which I hope will be useful to you. It is not much dearest, but if you are pressed, ask them at the office for more and I will repay it here.
Well, I suppose you would like to hear a little about what Nikko is like, eh? Altho’ I left the office about 11:45 we did not reach the hotel at Nikko till a quarter past six. What a lovely place it is! The most lovely hills and waterfalls and running streams at every turn.
The hotel is some distance from the station, I should say about 2 miles, and uphill all the way. We have to pass the famous Sacred Bridge (I think you have a postcard of it; if not I will send you one). And from there to the hotel about three quarters of a mile we run beside a rushing torrent with the most glorious hills on either side. We had no time, of course, to go anywhere on Saturday evening.
So on Sunday morning I went to the early service at the church conducted by the Bishop of Tokyo (also staying at the Hotel) and after breakfast we started off with three other tourists (Germans) for the Terami Falls, about 3 miles distant, one of the finest sights I have ever seen! We were able to climb up the rocks and actually get right underneath the falls.
We came back to tiffin and in the afternoon a big party of us ladies and gentlemen went to see the famous Temple quite close to the Hotel. Oh dear, how I wished you could have been there too, but still, you shall go there next year (D.V.) Sweetheart. [D.V. = Deo Volente, latin for God willing].
On Monday morning my messmate [table partner in the hotel dining room] and I took a short walk before breakfast across the stream, which is a series of miniature waterfalls, the water rushing between the big boulders (I am sending you by the same post views of these places I visited).
After breakfast, a party of us went to the Jakko Falls. These are not quite so good and we had to jump from one rock to the other and at one place, before we got to the falls themselves. But still the country was very beautiful.The finest I have yet seen in Japan so far.
We were going to ‘tour’ and go through Chunenji, a very beautiful spot further up in the mountains but we changed our minds and saw Nikko instead. So I must go to the other place later in the autumn when the leaves begin to change colour. That is the time, they say! If I go I will write and tell you all about it [and] send you some more views.
The Empress
1 Sep 1923 2 minutes to 12 noon
Yokohama harbour Japan
Maurice Bruce arrives at the docks to see a friend off on the Empress of Australia. Moments after his arrival the earthquake hits, folding the docks like paper and causing large portions to slough away underfoot. Here is what he saw….[Source: Wikipedia]
On Saturday, 1 September 1923, at 11:55 am, the Empress of Australia was making ready to depart from the docks at Yokohama, Japan. Several hundred people were on the docks, catching streamers and confetti from the passengers lining the rails, and waving their farewells. Tugs were about to ease the ship away from the dock when, without warning the 23,000 ton liner was flung violently from side to side. The earth trembled under several violent shocks and sections of the dock collapsed under the feet of the panic stricken crowds. The land and remaining dock structure began to roll in wave like motions as high as six to eight feet.
In minutes the worst shocks were over, but after-shocks, some quite heavy, continued for some time, while winds rose to 70 mph (110 km/h). From the city a heavy rumbling sound could be heard as hundreds of buildings collapsed into rubble. This was the 1923 Great Kantō earthquake, devastating Tokyo and Yokohama and the entire Kantō region of central Honshū. This was one of the worst earthquake disasters in recorded history.
The Empress of Australia was in a very dangerous position. Crowded with passengers, she was still alongside the remains of the dock, with a freighter moored close behind so she could not clear without the aid of tugs. Meantime, the Lyons Maru, moored to the east, had lost her cable and drifted across the harbor, colliding with the Empress at her stern. She then hit amidships, shattering a lighter loaded with lumber that had drifted alongside. This small vessel acted as a buffer between the two large ships and prevented serious damage. Tugs had disappeared in the confusion and fires were started on the docks and were spreading rapidly.
Available crew and passengers were put to work hosing down the ship to put out sparks and embers that were falling on the decks. Ropes and ladders were lowered over the side so that people trapped on the dock could climb aboard. Captain Robinson then tried to push the freighter moored astern with his ship, to allow enough room to maneuver away from the flaming docks. The Empress was able to carefully move the nearby freighter, the Steel Navigator; and then the Empress slowly pulled away.
When the Empress of Australia moved forward, her port propeller fouled in the anchor cable of the freighter. Fortunately the liner was now about 60 feet (18 m) away from the flames, and the winds had shifted, blowing the fires away from the ship. By 3pm the fires had died down and the wind dropped off to a light breeze; the ship was immobile but safe for the moment. In the distance vast fires could be seen in the city. The ship’s lifeboats were lowered and manned by members of the crew and passenger volunteers, who formed rescue parties to help those ashore, working through the night.
The next morning, the ship was again in danger from a large mass of burning oil that was moving across the harbor. The Empress could not steer because of the damaged propeller, but was able to avoid the oil fire long enough to get assistance from the tanker Iris. Her captain agreed to tow the bow of the Empress of Australia around, and she was then able to move out to sea and a safer anchorage. When taking a count on Sunday, there were over 2000 refugees on board.
On Monday, the RMS Empress of Canada arrived on her regular schedule; and she was able to provide the Empress of Australia with more stores. Then the Empress of Canada transported a large number of refugees on to Kobe, where the Japanese government had set up a relief center.
On 4 September, the Imperial Japanese Navy’s second Fusō-class battleship Yamashiro arrived at the harbor. The Empress of Australia had been unable to proceed due to the fact that she had a fouled propeller. Arrangements were made for a diver from the Yamashiro to inspect the damage and effect repairs. The cable was unwound and the machinery was tested; and the fouled propeller was found to have suffered no damage.
The Empress of Australia was now free to leave, but at the request of the British Consul, she remained as long as needed for continued relief work. Each morning, for the next several days, the Empress of Australia re-entered the devastated harbour and sent her boats ashore manned by a combination of crew, local residents, and passenger volunteers. Refugees were brought aboard, transferred from the ship to other vessels, or taken to Kobe. To aid the victims, the ships officers and most of the passengers donated everything they could spare. She finally departed Yokohama on 12 September 1923, returning to her routine duties; but her services were not forgotten. Captain Samuel Robinson received numerous awards in recognition of his actions, including the CBE, and award of the Lloyds Silver Medal.
A group of passengers and refugees who were aboard during the disaster commissioned a bronze tablet and presented it to the ship in recognition of the relief efforts. When the Empress of Australia was scrapped in 1952, the bronze tablet was rescued and presented to Captain Robinson, then aged 82, in a special ceremony in Vancouver.
Cattleboat Hell
Frank with his two brothers Maurice and Geoffrey work the summer of 1925 on the Canadian prairie, then take the train to Vancouver, BC in late fall. Jobs are hard to find and on Christmas day, Frank throws in the towel and catches a train east. He is England-bound. In Montreal, he greases the palm of a sleazy Swede in the railyards and gets on with the cattleboat Manchester Producer as a cattleman, feeding and handling the cattle on board. His passage home is assured …or so he thinks.
A brutal January storm breaks the ship’s rudder and for three weeks the ship drifts broadside to the breaking seas. Fearful of capsize, the captain orders all cattle and pens on the decks be thrown overboard to reduce windage. Calls for help bring nearby vessels but all attempts to secure a tow line in the heavy swells fail.
The tug fought through a Thousand Miles of Ocean Gales to Succor the Crippled Tramp – And We Sipped Hot Tea While the Cook Slept
I steadied myself against the edge of the iron bunk while the ship rolled heavily to port; as she regained the vertical, I l;eft the forecastle and stepped on deck into the cold wind. Inside, my fellow cattlemen slept uneasily in their clothes, breathing stertorously a close, damo atmosphere loaded with the mingled smells of cow, unwashed clothing, stale tobacco and the apples we had borrowed from the cargo below.
The night sky was brilliantly starred: the January wind still blew strong and steady over the Atlantic from the northwest. The ship, her rudder quadrant broken, lay as she had drifted for three weeks now, helplessly rolling broadside to the heavy swell. Each tremendous wave, rushing at the ship as she listed under the pressure of the wind, dealt her a smashing blow, and passed beneath us. Down the wind-fretted back of the wave she slid, trembling into the trough; listed again and waited for the buffet from the next onrushing wall of water.
Now or Never!
Pulling up the collar of my old army greatcoat, I hung over the lee rail to watch the dim white crests of the waves leave the ships’s rail and with a hiss and a heave, leap away into the darkness.
I was pretty sure it was a hail that had brought me on deck; but we were in mid-Atlantic where hails are few. Sure enough, lights were dancing to leeward. Stately, swaying, they rode for a moment on the wind, then plunged with a sideways swing, and the next moment were again flung skyward. I dived back into the forecastle and punched a shapeless mass of blankets, clothes and sacking on an upper bunk. “Hey Bill! Goldern you; wake up. Here’s the tug.”
Groaning protests, Bill rolled out, yawned himself into cap and sweater. We went outside together.
The watch was already on deck. The tug had come a thousand miles and more to fetch us, had found us at night in mid-ocean. She was ready now to hook onto us in a sea that we had already seen during the previous two weeks, break like twine the three inch steel hawsers passed to us by other ships, salvage bent.
The tug came in close, hailed us again and told us to stand by to receive a line. Her searchlight showed our Old Man on the bridge, megaphone in hand. He yelled in a hoarse but surprisingly loud voice that it couldn’t be done – better wait til daylight. The answer, blurred by the wind, came booming back: “You take my line now or I’ll leave you.
The Old Man’s “OK” was the last of that laconic argument.
A Mighty Flail
Up forward, the crew were busy with the anchor winch. Spare hawsers were already coiled on the foredeck. Two days before, as another ship was preparing to tow us, the heavy hawser had parted. The end of the steel hawser converted instantly into a mighty flail, whipped around the bollard and disappeared overside, leaving the carpenter’s mate in a huddle on the deck with one leg nearly severed at the ankle.
“I’ll cut your throat”
I felt in an inside pocket for cigarettes. Bill and I leaned against the rail next the cowshed and watched the crew lugging cables for’rard along the heaving steel deck. From the after-deck, littered with smashed cowshed and a tangle of wire ropes, with the dead steers still wedged between the winches and the hatch, they dragged the heavy rope. Past the galley door where we were wont to wait for the inevitable stew and the tea with coffee grounds; past the engine room door whence the negro stoker had flown by me with his razor the night before while the second engineer dived into his cabin for a gun, appealing to me over his shoulder as a witness:
“You heard that black devil say he’d cut my throat, didn’t ye, hey?”
Past the fiddley they lugged the heavy cable: the fiddley where in bad weather we let go our hold on the lifelines rigged along the deck and dived for the warmth of the stokehold, only to be soaked again as we descended by flying masses of brine from windward, which plunged throught the gratings and dripping steel ladders to the shining deck of the dim stockhold below. Past the steward’s pantry they dragged they dragged the cable forward, where we would go to draw rations and where the floor was still wet with the water that had flooded down from the smashed chartroom through the sacred saloon.
Bill and I smoked and gladly watched the crew working.
The wind pressed coldly upon us, but not with the solid, irresistible force it had shown during the worst of the weather.It had blown then miraculously from a clear steel-blue sky upon a grey and racing sea. It hadblown with incredible intensity and steadiness; now flatenning the seas with it weight, now whipping the flying spume up over the windward taffrail, heaved high as the ship listed, whipping it horizontally across the deck.
Bill and I finished our smokes.
Fishing for the line
Very soon the tug would send a line aboard. She would do it by the simple process of slinging overboard to windward a lifebuoy with the line attached. the ships would drift faster than the buoy and we would fish for it with lines weighted with iron shovels or bars as soon as we had drifted down upon it. We began to get cold; our interest in the proceedings waned with every chilling moment.
Apple Pie
“Tea Bill,” I said, and we moved off in the direction of the galley. Making tea had to be done at some time between midnight and three in the morning, when the vituperative, whisky-ridden cook was snoring in his bunk. Ham, our tame cattleman-actor had even baked an apple pie at these unearthly hours. To be sure, the apples had been stolen from the cargo and cooked without sugar; and the crust made from the cook’s flour without fat, but in the circumstances it was a culinary triumph. Ham himself had brought me a piece and awakened me to eat it. After the first enthusiastic bite, one ate the rest out of love for Ham and respect for his remarkable achievement.
While Bill stoked up the big iron range with its railed top, I took a small saucepan, slid forward again to within earshot of where the mate was still grunting orders, and slipped below. I moved quickly aft along the rows of cattle between decks, assailed by the cloying smell of the animals, and of wet hay, and from the already rotting apples in the hold.
Near the end of the long line of weary, weaving animals stood the little Black Angus cow that had presented us with a shiny black calf a week before. With this single gesture she had attained a popularity with the entireship’s company, who whoile glad of the calf as a pet, were still more pleased at the prospect of having fresh milk in their tea.
Competition for the milk waxed fierce between thesaloon, the sailors and the cattlemen. Fortunately for the calf, it was a point of honor among the warring foster brothers to see that the calf was fed first. After that, it was anybody’s milk. Hence, it was as necessary to do our milking while the crew worked and the steward slept, as it was to wait until the fat and unmpleasant cook wassafe in the arms of Morpheus before making tea.
The calf was fed
It should be explained that tea as Ham made it, or as we made it, and as the cook mad it for Ham and us, were not recognizable as the same beverage.
The calf was fed. I took a cupful of milk in the saucepan, tied up the calf to the stanchion, fed the little black cowcrushed apples in a pail and hied me with my booty to the galley.
Hot good tea
The tea was strong and fragrant. We sipped gratefully, warming our backs at the stove, which had been generously stoked by the big-hearted Bill. My hands at the cup smelled of the apples and the cow. Over the cups we regarded ourselves with pleased and perfect understanding. Tomorrow. we thought, after three weeks adrift, we shall be limping south to the Azores. Moving slowly as we shall be,it is true; moving at hardly a man’s walking pace behind the tug from Queenstown that found ships in mid-ocean and made their skippers hook on at night. The sea would go down. Every day it would get warmer. Perhaps we could even lie on the hatch in the sun and watch the sailors chipping paint. Meanwhile the drunken cook was asleep and we had hot tea with no stale coffee grounds in it and made too, with fresh milk.
Cattle Ship Perils
Cattle Ship Perils
Morning Post, London, March 20, 1926
Crew’s Terrible Experiences
Refuge in the Stokehold
Food Shortage
The story of a cattleman’s experiences on board the Manchester Producer, published yesterday exclusively in the Morning Post, has caused widespread interest.
The cattleman in question was Mr. H. A. L. Berry, a younger brother of one of the heads of Berry Bros. and Co., wine merchants, of St James Street, has supplied further details of his experiences. His story is corroborated by a young Englishman, Mr S. F. Bruce, a student of agriculture in Canada, who was also on board the Manchester Producer.
Mr Berry states that he was in Montreal, with the intention of taking a trip home to England, in January last. He was thinking of booking a passage when one of his friends suggested that he should ship on a cattle boat. The life was not easy; but he had lived and worked hard in Canada, and was not afraid.
“I was given the address of an agent in Montreal,” he said, “who arranges for the provision of men for the cattle steamers. I went to see him and he told me he would arrange a passage for me for ten dollars. This would cover my passage across the Atlantic and my food; I would also be able to ship back to Canada on a boat of the same line. He then landed me a slip with my name and the date, although the amount which I had paid him was left blank. No questions were asked of my fitness or experience in handling cattle.
Men of All Trades
“I met my fellow cattlemen at St John’s. They were of all trades and professions — farmers, mechanics, businessmen, an actor and others. There was only one experienced cattleman in the party. The weather was [adverse] with deep snow on the ground, and the temperature was well below zero.
“When we got on board, we were herded into the saloon, and various papers were spread before us on the table. We were told to sign, and I asked what the papers were. I was informed that the signatures were for purposes of identification only; later in the voyage, however, we were informed that they were ship’s articles, which committed us to work, such as the cleaning out of the cattle pens and other work which we had not expected to do.
“I now understand that before a man signs his articles they are read to him and the nature of his duties explained. This was not done, however; and it was not until towards the end of the voyage to Fayal that we were expected to do this work of cleaning out the pens.
“All the time that I was on board I did not see a life belt, nor did we have any lifeboat drill, even during the days when it was calm enough.
The Night Watch
I was appointed night watchman, and I was expected to see that the animals on deck were fairly comfortable during the night. But I had no electric torch or light of any sort provided for me, and it was impossible to see what was happening to the animals during the night. I carried on as best I could.
“We carried a veterinary surgeon on board; but we had no humane killers of any sort, and when the storm broke out and some of the cattle were maimed it was necessary to put them out of their misery. One of the crew hit the animals repeatedly on the head with a small hammer; they went down under the blows, but stumbled up again. It was a hideous sight, and we all thought it was more merciful to fling them overboard.
Refuge in the Stokehold
“Our own sufferings were unbelievable. When the storm was at its height we could hardly venture across the top deck. If we did we were flung from side to side and drenched with icy water. One heavy sea broke down a portion of the top deck, extinguishing the lights in the quarters of some of the crew and swamping them with water. One of the men was rather badly hurt, and they all thought that the end had come. They managed to escape, however, to the lower decks.
“We had deserted our quarters in the forecastle after the first night. The cold there was too intense.; so we installed ourselves on the lower deck, amid the hay provided for the cattle. Our real home, however, was the stokehold. When we came down from the deck, half-frozen, sore from buffeting, and almost blind with misery, this dingy black hole was a haven of warmth and comfort to us. We could at least dry our clothes and our bodies by the fire, while the negro stokers were great chaps.
The Negroes’ Prayer
“Few of us had any hope of seeing land again. Our rudder was broken and our steering gear was out of order. Our wireless too was out of action for a time. But these niggers were extraordinarily cheerful, with a strange kind of fatalism. They kept their mandolins whining pleasantly all the time — better music than the howl of the waves and the wind. They were true philosophers; one old darkey said to me ‘Dar’s de ship, an’ de waves; de cattle, de humans an’ de God; an’ Ah thinks de God will win.’ That was their prayer; all of us I think said prayers of some description.
“The misery of the cattle too was weighing upon us. We could, at least, grumble and sing, swear and pray; but these poor dumb beasts cold only stand there, in the filthy pens which had not been cleaned for weeks, and watch us as we brought their daily-diminishing supply of fodder and water to them. They must have been almost frozen; and it was probably the kindest thing to those on the upper deck to fling them overboard.
Spirit of the Men
“But the spirit of the men on board, in general, was immense. The officers and engineers would come down and talk to us in the stokehold. They were not over-sanguine, I think, of our chances of getting through; but they kept telling us that we were on a good ship, and that we wouldn’t go down. The apprentices and the steward, who knew something of wireless too, stuck to their posts night after night, until eventually they got it in order, and we were able to send out messages.
“The cook and his assistant worked all day in a galley awash with water, and managed to keep us alive. After awhile, when supplies started to run short, we broke open one of the holds, and ate some of the apples and the patent foods stored there.
“I wanted to say a word, too, about the assistance of the ships that came to our rescue. There were five of them altogether, and each one of them stood by and helped as best as they could. It was nobody’s fault that they could not take us in tow. The Mongolian Prince was herself running short of food, and she had to pick up one of the animals which we had thrown overboard and kill it for food.”
[World copyright reserved]