A few years ago I purchased a subscription to an ancestry website so I could dabble in my family history. I was curious to see if there were any skeletons in the closet.
I also took the opportunity to research my first husband’s side of the family (my children’s side), finding two convicts who met in Australia and married. They weren’t on the First Fleet, but both had colourful backgrounds.
The woman had set a fire to haystacks on a farm when she had a grievance against her bosses. Because of the seriousness of her crime it was reported in the English news, a mine of information to a family researcher. I probably discovered more than I bargained for thanks to the internet.
My great-grandmother was a mysterious lady to me. She lived in advancing age with her mother after spending most of her adult life in country New South Wales. My mother said she had a man’s photo on her wall but no one was to ask who it was, he was just known as Granny’s husband. It wasn’t until my sister a few years later announced she was starting family history that my mother told us a family secret.
My grandmother was illegitimate. The stigma to illegitimacy from the late-1900s when my grandmother was born to the present day was still raw. Granny had been married at one time, we think, and had a son. The younger siblings, twin girls along with two other sisters were fathered by another man, as the family lived in the same country town. Granny was named in his will.
We later discovered this man’s name and he is buried in the same cemetery as one of the twin girls who died when she was a baby. Her twin became my grandmother. Because we now had his name we were able to search for this side of the family.
We discovered quite a paper trail, as his father had been well known in a coastal country town in Victoria, an engineer who had studied at Trinity College in Dublin and who designed a still-standing stone bridge along with a Gothic-styled home he had lived in, still stood on the main highway between Sydney and Melbourne.
Unfortunately, he was accused of of setting fire to the council offices, the charges later dismissed, and his reputation was tarnished. He is prominent in the historical society of the town and we have photos and know his Irish ancestry tracing it back to the Irish gentry.
One of these relatives has a statue in Dublin and because he was guilty of organising an uprising (be it on a small scale), he was sent to Tasmania as punishment for a few years. I discovered he eventually returned to Europe to live out his days.
It was surprising and heartwarming to know there are a few of my ancestors who are well known. It’s one way of leaving their mark for future generations to discover.