The Feisty Women of the Female Factory at Parramatta

One of the many things that really interest me is learning about and sharing the stories of early Australian settlers, especially women. A few months ago I read a book called the “Tin Ticket” by Deborah J. Swiss which is about the journey of female convicts to Tasmania. The book was an insight into their incarceration and travel from England to the female factory in Hobart called “Cascades”. So intrigued was I in their story that I wanted to know more and have booked a short trip to Hobart in October to see the site which I read about.

But we have a site of our own just as infamous as “Cascades” not far down the road at Parramatta, so last weekend I took a bunch of people and met our guide, Judith Dunn, for a two hour tour. The Female Factory at Parramatta was the first purpose built establishment designed to provide accommodation and employment for convict women. It also functioned as a penitentiary and a maternity hospital.                                                  

I really felt like I had stepped into the shoes of those women as we entered through the blue coloured gateway to where the third class facility, which was for the poorest and the worst behaved, was. Once inside the gates the stories came thick and fast and I wondered whether any of us, so used to our soft and comfortable lives, could ever have survived what these women had to endure.

The Dead House

The small building that you see to the left of the doorway was known as the “death house” or mortuary where bodies were kept before being taken away for burial. This was a quite a sombre reminder of what the realities of this place were.

As I walked the grounds I listened to the stories of the ladies and how, in spite of their tragic circumstances, they gave as good as they got. In the words of our tour guide “they were feisty, they answered back “. We were asked not to feel sorry for them. We were asked instead to honour their spirits and their determination to survive at all costs.

 Until 1826 the women were housed in what was   either the Merit Class or the Crime Class but this was later refined to a three class system with First class women the best behaved and eligible for assignment or getting out of the Factory, a Second 'probationary' class and a Third class either on secondary punishment or serving time for offences committed while having been assigned to work on farms or houses of free settlers.

First and Second class women were employed in a range of boring tasks such as wool picking, cloth scouring, weaving, laundry, oakum picking, needlework, cleaning duties and straw plaiting for which they received a small payment. Third class women were restricted to menial tasks and hard labour such as stone breaking and oakum picking.

Those huge standstone walls

Yes, you heard right – stone breaking! The factory was surrounded by beautifully crafted sandstone blocks. It was the job of the women to break down damaged blocks into rubble with mallets.
To add even greater insult to these women’s lives the administration decided to remove children from these women in an effort to keep them working at their optimum levels. An orphanage was built right next door. Children were allowed to remain with their mothers at the Factory until they reached the age of four years at which time they were sent to the Orphan School.  

The Orphanage

                               
This was later changed to two years of age just after “weaning”. The women lost all contact with their children until their release and often times longer depending on their circumstances. How heartbreaking would it be to be locked away so close to your children yet unable to touch, hold comfort or touch them.
It is estimated that about two thirds of the 12,600 or so convict women sent to the colony at Sydney spent time behind the Factory walls. In 1847 the Female Factory was re-assigned as a convict Invalid and Lunatic Asylum and in December 1849 a portion of the buildings was opened as a public Asylum. The stories of murders and strange goings on continued and it seemed to us like every corner held the ghosts of those poor individuals that were forced to spend time before those walls.

Buildings in Second Class

As darkness fell and the cold breath of the Parramatta river crept under our clothes sending a chill up our spines I am sure that not only I could hear the far off voices of the women crying softly asking us to remember them and to keep this site as a reminder of what they went through.

Some information has been sourced from:http://www.parragirls.org.au/female-factory.php
Renata Daniel – Newcastle Ghost Tours                                                             
 www.newcastleghosttours.com.au

CITY ARCADE

I recently went for a walk through the old City Arcade - a place that was quite magical for me when I was just a child.
It was a little corridor that weaved around from Hunter street and out to Newcomen Street in the Mall in Newcastle CBD.

I remember walking past on the way to our favorite and just about only coffee shop up that end of the street back in the 1980's with my mother - I was already a cappuccino freak in my early teens!
I remember the tobacconist who also sold a myriad of souvenirs and assorted wallets, and swiss army knives.

There were a few other shops that ran down the small arcade and it was always rather quiet and spooky. The Christian Reading Room has been there forever and there was also a florist for many years.
Everyone has their memories of the Arcade- it was one of those spots that made the Mall a special place. We no longer have Arcades in Newcastle although they are so very popular in Melbourne being a feature of the CBD. What have we lost? 

Paterson Cemetery

Last Friday, on the spur of the moment, I decided to take a drive to Paterson near Maitland.
The perfect warm winter's day made for a very pleasant journey and the valley is looking green and lush. Paterson is about an hour trip out of Newcastle and I wanted to visit the cemetery at St Paul's which sits close to the township's main corner.
A story in the local paper told of the need for a working bee to clean up and help save the deteriorating cemetery at the back.It was planned for the next day and I could not get there because of previous engagements.
When I arrived I firstly took a quick look inside the church and then headed out the back to walk through the site.
Gosh, were would you begin!
Not overly big but needing lots of work to clean this place  - I just hoped that there were some bodies who would turn up to lend a helping hand.
I am planning to head out again shortly to see what has been done.
It would be a shame for this last place of rest for our pioneer settlers to become just a memory.

Teralba Cemetery - Memories hidden under the earth

The original Teralba grave yard (now in Booragul) is located on Billy Goat hill on the southern (bush side) of the railway station. After you trek up the dirt track you will know whay they call it "Billy Goat Hill".

The picture above is what can be achieved in a very short period of time with a few hands clearing overgrown grass and bushes.

Notable locals such as James Cherry, accidentally killed at Teralba Colliery. (Cherry's Bridge at Barnsley is named after this family). 

One burial site bears a row of bits of the headstone lined up along one side of the graves site. Only small chunks remain - you can see the year of death - 1913.
Members of the Sager family are also buried in this cemetery. Very little remains of the cemetery today.

 This site does not have much of a future unless we do something now.
Families of those buried here still reside in local suburbs. Vandalism has stripped this resting place of its dignity.
Its such a shame.

Memories...

Last night I had the strangest dream..

I woke last night at about 4am and found it hard to go back to sleep (due mostly to someone snoring noisily beside me!!) but when I did I had the strangest dream.
I was walking down a very dark street and I knew I had to get to the end of it to get to my destination.
I started, filled with a sense of fear... and as I walked I found myself unable to do so quickly...one of those dreams where your feet feel like they are in two cement blocks and you are dragging every step in slow motion.
As I made my way down the street, the fences on either side were very high and behind them big dogs popped up and looked at me - they did not bark nor scare me..they just watched my progress.
As I moved further down the street I walked past groups of people who did not threaten me..if anything they were not even aware I was passing.They just continued to talk amongst themselves. I walked amongst them as if I were a ghost.
Then I got to the end of the street and I could see a well lit shop on the other side for which I made a bee line.
My legs were still like lead..I thought that I would get run over trying to cross the street so slowly.
But I made it.
The shop was filled with people and they were trying to push me around so that I could not get past.
All I felt I could do was elbow my way past them all shoving as I went.
I did not talk to anyone during this whole journey other than expressing my impatience at the rudeness of this last bunch of people who were making it so hard for me..
this was when I woke up.
The dream had ended at about 4.20am.