Sunday, September 8, 2013

Octavia Hamilton, A struggle for contentment


Octavia Hamilton is one of those anorexic footnotes in Australian musical history who despite efforts to feed her citation starves in written memory. She was, most sources tell, the principal contralto in the Philharmonic society and that is usually all one receives in the way of revelation, except in more weighty academic ventures into music of the nineteenth century in Australia, where, you may see mention of the scandalous Mrs. Moon (as she was in married life) and the numerous children associated with her behavior. To further sketch the picture in a way that Cruickshank may have drawn it, there is the tough and bitter husband, Augustus Graham Moon. It was venomous, public and contumelious. 

As with all minor satellites of domestic tragedy, there is usually some kind of knotted psychological mess, and there appears to have been, in Octavia’s case, just such a knot. Positively Gordian. It reaches back into her family’s past, and let me say right here that I am supposing greatly, but making sure my suppositions drift magnetically along the natural currents of likelihood.

She was born Eliza Octavia Scrivenor, eighth child and daughter of John Walter Scrivenor, solicitor of London who suffered intermittent success in his field, being bankrupt on more than one occasion and dissolving at least one professional partnership that is known. His father in turn (Eliza Octavia’s Grandfather) Harry G. Scrivenor - a Surrey man - had married a minor, one Elizabeth Craiston and had a respectable number of children, one of whom became Sir Harry Scrivenor, who made his name, a title and many pounds sterling in mercantile pursuit of Iron, and, who married into the Bayes-Cotton family. The Bayes-Cotton family were a wealthy Victorian family with ministers peppered upon every branch of the family and the hard fog of religious adherence wrapped around all. Some of Sir Harry’s children even emigrated to Australia, including his son, Octavius Scrivernor. Sir Harry did well. John, his solicitor brother , rather struggled (He eventually came out to Australia as well).

On the maternal side the truancy of success made itself well known. Octavia’s maternal grandmother, Caroline Medkaff had been born in about 1768 and was the illegitimate but recognized daughter of Henry Herbert, the badly-behaved, horse-loving, one-tenth-of-an-adventurer, 10th Earl of Pembroke, whom Horace Walpole found intolerable and regular fodder for wit. The poor daughter (the second illegitimate child) Caroline had been the offspring of the libidinous Earl and some poor woman whom he had whisked off, and bedded, on her wedding day to some poor unfortunate groom in Venice. The Pembroke papers do not mention who this unfortunate husband was, nor the name of the woman, nor how or where the pregnancy was carried. But be that as it may, Eliza Octavia was still the great-grand daughter of a peer although I am sure the details were lost on purpose and the nobility part thoroughly elevated and glazed.

Her choice of professional name perhaps may possibly be explained as follows:- her great grandfather John Hoadley Scrivenor had a daughter Ann (thus Aunt to Octavia's father) who married Baron Charles Hamilton, from the family that were on the bloody field at Culloden. The Baron and Ann had a son James who was born in Hamilton in Scotland, and who emigrated in 1839 as a young adventurer to New Zealand and died there in 1844. There is evidence to suggest Octavia and her cousin James were close.

So, Eliza Octavia lived in a family that had a compulsion to achievement,  religious durability on the left and the faded, ‘don’t-ask-too-many-questions’ end of noblesse on the right. John Walter Scrivenor’s family was in the middle. No pressure then.

Augustus Moon then enters the picture, the nephew of Sir Francis Moon, Lord Mayor of London who apart from whatever else he did, managed to receive a portrait in the Illustrated London News (Francis, not Augustus, alas). Augustus enters the scene of Frances’ life as a boarder, living with the Scrivenors in Islington, where he marries her while she was still under age. A little calculation of the marriage entry and the census entry for 1851 shows that hanky was being very definitely panked while Augustus was a guest under John Scrivenor’s roof. That’s not very gentlemanly and rather takes the protective varnish off Augustus’ later hard-done-by husband image he threw into the press. 

After marriage Augustus and Eliza Moon, emigrated to Australia where Augustus had a post with the General Steam Screw Navigation Company but the Crimean war put a stop to whatever venture that had guaranteed and he found himself working in the Post Office in its correspondence branch. Mr. Moon, who looked like he was going to court great success soon settled down to the hard upward climb in a land at least three months sail from England where his choice of station may have fared better.

At some point Eliza Octavia, after giving birth to ‘some’ children to him, takes up with wine merchant Thomas Holme Davis (a music lover and secretary of the Philharmonic in 1860 where he no doubt began some kind of association with her) with whom she brought the total of children issued to fourteen. 

Thomas Holme Davis was the son of a woolstapler and came to Australia as an emigrant starting as a wool dealer, no doubt helped by connections back home. At some point he moved into the import and export of wine. He was the successful self made man that John Walter Scrivenor tried to be, and that Augustus Moon promised to be. What is more - he loved music and was the secretary of the Philharmonic Society where Octavia Hamilton was principal contralto. Mr. Moon was never comfortable with France’s public display of singing, being of that same cast of opinion that reminds me of Armes Beaumont’s father who refused to acknowledge him even in the street because he sang Opera as a profession. Thomas obviously had no such low opinion of  singing.

At some point either side of 1860 Frances Octavia, Madame Augustus G. Moon, moved in with him above his wine store and there seems to have been a genuine rapport between them for in 1874 he sells up and they both move back to England with child number fourteen, Beatrice Connaught Davis, leaving the freshest trail. Thomas and Eliza appeared to have stayed together until death. The descendants of Augustus Moon know little about her, and several told me their impressions were that the parents had been told all manner of wickedness about her and that she was persona non grata.

Whatever the truth, her first marriage cannot have been the choice of the wise and wizened regardless of Frances‘ wishes as a ‘young woman’.  The result was an unhappy one and Augustus Moon’s public outbursts seem to hint at an anger fueled by an indignant spirit. The second ‘marriage’ with T. H. Davis looked to be a match born of music, the bottle and other private sport.


Monday, August 19, 2013

What happened to George?

Robert, Frederic, Eliza and Edward Smith had a brother named George, who after marrying in the 1850s left for Australia with his wife, Mary Victoria née Crump (daughter of Sleath John Crump). I have even got my hands on the shipping entry. They both arrived.

In Robert's will of 1917 there is no mention or bequest to any member of George's family that I am familiar with although there are plenty of names whose connections I have not made, although he never calls any of these spare persons 'nephew.' So either George had died or was persona non grata.

A family genealogist on Ancestry holds details for a Mary Victoria Crump and her sons, accounts for her whereabouts in the censuses but never mentions any further details on the sons, nor the husband, George. If this claimant be in possession of what is true then Mary V. Smith returned to England and is variously listed as a widow.

So what happened to George?

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Bottom of the Tea canister


Dagnabbit. I really wish someone would have, by this late stage in the day, have documented, and have readily available the history and minutiae of the Sparrow tea family. Apart from the teasing mentions of their shopfront, a few trade cards and regular snippets from the bankruptcy ball that was Victorian London, there is nothing.

It really would help.

It seems now that Edward Sparrow really was the father of Robert Smith (Robert Sparrow Smythe) and that the man did die in a carriage accident leaving an envoy from the 'family' to tell Robert's mother that the two-timer was deceased, as was any money that usually flowed to Eliza Smith. 

George Smith who has disappeared on me, gives his father as Edward Smith, linen draper. How curious. Did Edward Sparrow work at Smith's Emporium and was Edward a member of the Robert and Frederick Smith Tea Merchants from God-knows-whereshire? That would explain the money having been given, and also the lack of any legal action. The Smith's had been poorer than poor with 'Mrs. Smith' sending her children out to the Tea merchants for the dustings of the bottom of the canisters. I wonder if they went up to Sparrow's Tea Merchants or one of the three stores the family owned.

None of the children knew the name of the father until Eliza and her brothers confronted their mother and asked who the father was - and that must have happened before Smythe emigrated for he stated using the name Smythe almost as soon as he arrived. In fact, Edward Steele seems to suggest that the children, especially Smythe, knew of it before he left in 1855 on the Kent.

Why has no-one documented the Sparrows? Why? They were a major the house of the nineteenth century in London, near St, Pauls, and on a fashionable stretch of Ludgate Hill for a long time.

So there it is; Edward, Robert, Eliza, George and Frederick, the progeny of Sparrows and no-one has left the faintest clue. 


Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Tarnished Road to Samarkand

Yesterday, I archived all my tweets ever tweeted or twot on twitter and closed it.


Yesterday, I deleted every post and every picture on Facebook and after five years, I will deactivate that too.

I have deleted all other blogs but this this one which is research based and not defined as Social Media. My reason for this is the increased arrogance and reach of the surveillance state, the futility of social media to advance my habit of self cultivation but most of all by the debilitating stupidity that has peppered my interaction beyond the capacity of a generous intolerance.

People no longer reason, they react. They no longer think, they adopt other's opinions. I have no problem in abandoning such patchwork creatures to the dark misunderstandings that are coming. In the absence of a vibrant mental life culture collapses into myopic simplicity and sterile opinion. Barrenness. 

And, this morning it was revealed that our own tel-co, TELSTRA has been storing for future use on behalf of the United States spy agencies, our personal traffic and data. So, I am switching to writing good old fashioned letters.

I have the contact details of those nearest and dearest and of like mind and similar fire. The rest are about to find themselves in a place they will not like. God help them all.

But, this blog will remain open for my research on R.S.Smythe.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Crumpity, Crumpity, Crump

Edward Steele notes a thing most important regarding my researches, in his journal. He relates the departure in 1858 of George Smith, brother of R.S.Smythe, for Australia. Having recently married in 1857 he was easier to find than I had thought. Married in North Surrey/Wandsworth/Lambeth-ish area with the father's name Edward Smith, and he himself by occupation, a saddler. So far all details correct (father's occupation given as draper). He married a Mary Victoria Crump and sure enough on the shipping list in early 1858 arriving at Melbourne, there he his, the only one of correct age, with a wife, M. V. Smith (daughter of John Sleath Crump). Evidently the plan was for Robert to fund the emigration of the entire family. Eliza and Frederic stayed behind.

Bingo.

There is a small shadow on this revelation; a family on ancestry has already claimed Mary Victoria Crump/Smith as never having left England. We have both made claims upon the same marriage certificate. Having said that I can find no M. V. Smith dying here anywhere, and R.S.Smythe makes no mention of George in his will, nor any offspring of same.

What happened?

Edward Smith Jnr, George's brother was already potted deep in the soil of South Australia and Robert was in the Riverina, I think, but most definitely in Victoria. I hope George settled here in Victoria, for if he settled in South Australia it's as good as throwing him onto the deck of the Flying Dutchman.

So, George - show yourself!

Sparrows, more confused than ever

Edward Steele, the brother in law of robert Sparrow Smythe states quite plainly in his journal that the real father of the family was Edward Sparrow and that the family (the mother) had simply adopted the name Smith, and that in knowledge of this Robert Smith played with the spelling of his name, sometimes changing Smith to Smythe but always taking the name Sparrow as his middle name.

Edward 'Smith' Sparrow was supposed to have died in a carriage accident leaving the mother a 'widow' and indeed in 1851 she enumerates herself as a widow. ten years earlier the father had been alive. So Mr. Sparrow died between 1841 and 1851 and left a real widow and children. So who was he?

His illegitimate eldest son, Edward was born in 1826, seven full years before Robert Sparrow Smith. Why the gap of seven years? What on earth was going on? A syphilitic period? Absence? Legal threats? No other children are mentioned by Edward Steele in his diary.

The man, who ever his was, was meant to be somewhat wealthy as goes the family law. "Of Ludgate Hill" is another piece of lore. F and R. Sparrow were indeed wine merchants and tea-dealer, but there is no Edward at all. The number of Edward Sparrows that died in the 1841-1851 decade are two in number, neither of which match or fit. He is described variously as printer, drapers clerk/merchant or commercial traveller.

So where is the truth of this?

Oh, and George Smith, the remaining brother of Smythe emigrated with Mary Victoria, his wife, to Australia in 1858. Their marriage certificate lists Edward as a draper. Just what the heck is going on?

I'd love to know.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

A Painter's Companion

With my novel, the erotic part of it concerns me - not that it's there or that the language is explicit - it's that people expect the novel to be either 'romantic' (I hate that word) or erotic (not fond of that word either) but for a whole sense of narrative to develop it has to be part of the landscape. My concern is that it's presence jars.

I think it flows. Maybe I have been a little too restrained. I just don't know and the editor I was working with is beyond questioning on the subject now as I can't afford the funds to pay for her continued and invaluable input.

I'm going to have to read the book, yet again, and, as fond as I am of it, that is difficult. Editing is such hard emotional drudgery.

And there are other books piling up in my head - the sequel, Shakespearian like verse homoerotic performance material, poetry, and a large book on Karma and its mechanics.

Oh, and there is yet another biography, this time of the famous french immortal mystic and traveller Mdme. Adèle Dorothée Sainguery (born in the 1770's in Saint-Bouxères, France) of whom no-one has ever heard. Quite an amazing woman.