Tim Owen inspects archaeological investigations in Western Sydney. Photograph by Sharon Johnson (GML Heritage)

This morning on 2SER Breakfast, Dr Tim Owen from GML Heritage talked to Tess about his work as an archaeologist in Sydney.

Listen to Tim and Tess on 2SER here 

Archaeologists in Sydney work across many different fields. Historical archaeology looks at the period from 1788 until today but I also study Aboriginal archaeology across Sydney, looking at the evidence of the 50,000 years or so of Aboriginal occupation here. Archaeologists work on different kinds of sites too, some of high cultural significance, or those in a commercial setting that are going to be developed or need to be conserved. One site with high significance, the archaeological site on Bridge Road of first Government House on Bridge Road in the city, is nationally heritage listed and is important to colonial history in many ways, including as a site of first contact between the British colonisers and the Gadigal people. Arabanoo, Bennelong & Colebee were all incarcerated here after they were kidnapped, and held in chains in the yards. There's also an archaeological record of Aboriginal people being inside Government House through the materials they brought in and produced here and that have produced tangible evidence of Aboriginal people of their presence. Archaeologists are often called in to provide an assessment of a site that is less obvious in its significance. Prior to its development for something like a new housing estate or factory, a site will have been subject to investigation and possibly excavation before construction starts.  As the city grows, quite a lot of this work takes place in western Sydney. Western Sydney is just full of Aboriginal archaeology, Aboriginal heritage, Aboriginal places and Aboriginal meaning. It's a massive cultural landscape, with tangible and intangible values. Intangible values relate to stories, creation, travelling routes, geographical features, trees, plants, animals - all the things that are part of Aboriginal tradition. It's what is referred to as Country, underpinned by spirituality. Material evidence that comes as a consequence of Aboriginal people having lived here for 40,000 - 50,000 years is absolutely everywhere. You'll often find stone artefacts in western Sydney, and art sites and shell middens around the harbour and rivers. There's an extensive range of evidence that helps us to understand the very, very long term occupation of this ancient country by Aboriginal people. Archaeology in western Sydney is often buried rather than being on the surface, and it's the knowledge of the local Aboriginal people that inform the archaeologists and identify sites for excavations and allow us to understand the places that Aboriginal people have occupied for thousands of years. One such site is in East Leppington in south western Sydney where we undertook several months of archaeological research and excavations before construction began on a new residential development. We knew it was an historic landscape when we began as it was the site at of an early colonial land grant, and we could see the old homestead sitting on the hills. When we began to talk to local Aboriginal people however, they told us about a view corridor through the hills. When you went up one of the hills and faced one way, you could see the Blue Mountains. Face the other way and you could see the three CBDs, Parramatta, North Sydney and the city CBD with the Harbour Bridge in the distance. This was an amazing view now, but it was also, importantly, connected to a long Aboriginal tradition. From here you could see where everyone was across the Cumberland Plains, which had significance for community, travelling routes and corroborees. This was a strong intangible connection and although there was not a lot of archaeology at the top, when we began investigating lower down these hills, we found particular places in the landscape with lots of archaeological evidence showing Aboriginal people had come back to the same location over thousands and thousands of years. We were able to prove this through stratigraphic excavation, a kind of three dimensional puzzle, that allowed us to date the evidence we found. With OSL (Optical Stimulated Luminescence) dating of grains of sand in the alluvium that had been deposited by flooding and buried the older archaeology, we found that it had been set down over 10,000 years or so. We also applied carbon dating to hearth and cooking residues. We had also identified changes and developments over time in the artefacts left behind as materials and different methods of production allowed for much more refined tools, and these dating tools helped us to work out when these developments had taken place. History Week 2019 will be launched on Friday, and Tim Owen will be speaking at a special History Week event, 'Unearthing Memory and Myth', at GML Heritage in Surry Hills next Thursday at 6pm. Join historians and archaeologists from GML Heritage for an evening of lightning talks exploring cultural landscapes, archaeology, forgotten ruins, memory and mythology.  Tim Owen will present on concepts of memory and use of place through the lens of Aboriginal people’s connection to land over thousands of years. What are some of the places we forget? As part of her 2018 NSW History Fellowship, Minna Muhlen-Schulte has been researching the ruins and memorials of Second World War internment camps in Victoria. Archaeologist Brian Shanahan has worked in Ireland, Victoria and New South Wales for twenty years and will discuss myth, memory and material in the Irish landscape. Angela So has over 10 years’ experience in archaeology, historical research and interpretation planning and she will explore the ways in which we can interpret memory landscapes for wide range of audiences and formats. Find out more and book your tickets online here: https://www.eventbrite.com.au/e/unearthing-memory-and-myth-tickets-62831339227 There are too many great talks, tours, exhibitions and events being presented across Sydney to list here, so head to the History Council of NSW website and check the calendar and downloadable program for other great History Week events so you can plan your week: https://historycouncilnsw.org.au/ Some of our highlights include:

• The 2019 NSW Premier's History Awards are being held this coming Friday night at the State Library of New South Wales, and we're very excited! Click on the link here for the shortlists in each category.

• On Tuesday 3 September, Professor John Maynard is presenting the Annual History Lecture,  'Counter Currents – Aboriginal men and Women at the Heart of Empire'. Bookings through the History Council website here.

• Historian and regular Dictionary of Sydney presenter Dr Lisa Murray is giving an illustrated talk on the Block Plans of Sydney at Customs House on 1 September (book HERE) and another on the Devonshire Street cemetery on 4 September (book HERE). The City of Sydney's history team are also holding some special events for History Week and the final weekend of Cartographica - Sydney on the map, a great free exhibition at Customs House that examines the history of maps of the City of Sydney. Check their program here.

Happy History Week! Further reading: Tim Owen, An Archaeology of absence (or the archaeology of nothing), Historic Environment, Volume 27 Number 2 (2015) Val Attenbrow, Archaeological evidence of Aboriginal life in Sydney, Dictionary of Sydney, 2012 Dr Tim Owen, GML Heritage Principal, has 19 years’ experience working as a professional archaeologist; he has extensive experience in directing both Aboriginal and historical projects and excavations throughout Australia. He specialises in complex large-scale cultural landscape assessments, heritage management, bioarchaeological analysis and Aboriginal community, client and government liaison.Tim’s expertise lies in resolving complex strategic planning issues associated with large-scale projects, which include Aboriginal community consultation, Aboriginal and historical archaeological field survey, assessment, excavation, management and reporting. He has conceived and directed numerous public archaeology projects, and received the Martin Davies Award in 2007 for his long-term work at the Port Arthur Historic Site, Tasmania.Tim is a senior research fellow at Flinders University, with active research projects in Sydney and Adelaide. He is appearing for the Dictionary today in a voluntary capacity. Thanks Tim! Listen to the podcast with Tim and Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.   

A Weird Story By A Gifted Fifteen Year Old Authoress, Smiths Weekly, 6 January 1934, p16 via Trove

Amidst the bohemian neighbourhood of Kings Cross in the mid 20th century, the self-proclaimed ‘witch’ Rosaleen Norton (1917-1979) was hard to miss; a crop of raven hair, thinly arched eyebrows and gap between her crooked teeth. Norton claimed she was born in a thunderstorm and bore the tell-tale signs of a witch including pointed ears, blue markings on her left knee and a strand of flesh. Her alternate lifestyle, aside from her occult beliefs, also flouted the conventional norms of society, as she lived with men in squats, often dressed in male clothing and smoked in public.   Listen to Minna and Tess on 2SER here  A rebel from early childhood, the young Rosaleen preferred to live in the garden outside her family home and occupy a tent where she kept a pet spider named Horatius alongside cats, lizards, tortoises, toads, dogs and a goat. At 14 years old she was expelled from the Church of England Girls' School in Chatswood for corrupting other pupils with her drawings of vampires, ghouls and werewolves. She began working as a trainee journalist and illustrator at the newspaper Smiths Weekly and studying art. At East Sydney Technical College she found encouragement from sculptor Rayner Hoff. Influenced by the writing and artworks of British occultist Alistair Crowley, Norton continued to develop her own provocative style of depicting demons, pagan gods and sexually explicit content. [1]

Rosaleen Norton 1943, by Ivan Ives, Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales Courtesy ACP Magazines Ltd. (ON 388/Box 020/Item 059)

Against the morally conservative backdrop of 1940s and ‘50s Australia, Norton became fodder for the media and a target of government censorship. In 1949, her exhibition at the Rowden White Library at University of Melbourne was raided by police and Norton was charged with obscenity. Though the charges were later dropped she remains the only Australian artist to have artworks destroyed by order of the courts. [2] Norton tried to articulate her occult beliefs as a dedication to the pagan god Pan, trance mediation and mysticism but was falsely accused of satanic rituals, animal sacrifice and holding ‘Black Masses’. In 1955, sexual experimentation saw Norton and her lover the poet Gavin Greenlees charged by the NSW Vice Squad for ‘engaging in an unnatural sex act.’ Further scandal ensued when Sir Eugene Goosens, conductor of Sydney Symphony Orchestra, was discovered to be a member of her occult group and she was blamed for corrupting him. In 1979, Norton died of colon cancer at the Sacred Heart Hospice at St Vincents in Darlinghurst, still worshipping Pan until her death. She was reported to have said 'I came into the world bravely; I'll go out bravely.'[3] Listen to an oral history interview with Thelma Crawley about Rosaleen Norton and her home in Kings Cross at the end of her life on the Dictionary here: https://dictionaryofsydney.org/media/1750 Minna Muhlen-Schulte is a professional historian and Senior Heritage Consultant at GML Heritage. She was the recipient of the Berry Family Fellowship at the State Library of Victoria and has worked on a range of history projects for community organisations, local and state government including the Third Quarantine Cemetery, Victorian War Heritage Inventory, Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka (M.A.D.E) and Mallee Aboriginal District Services. In 2014, Minna developed a program on the life and work of Clarice Beckett for ABC Radio National’s Hindsight Program and in 2017 produced Crossing Enemy Lines for ABC Radio National’s Earshot Program. She’s appearing for the Dictionary today in a voluntary capacity. Thanks Minna! Listen to the podcast with  Minna & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.  Notes [1] Nevill Drury, 'Norton, Rosaleen Miriam (1917–1979)', Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/norton-rosaleen-miriam-11261/text20087, published first in hardcopy 2000, accessed online 21 August 2019. [2] Cassie Crofts, ‘The Witch of Kings Cross’, National Geographic, 6 June 2016, https://www.nationalgeographic.com.au/history/the-witch-of-kings-cross.aspx, viewed on 21 August 2019 [3] Nevill Drury, Pan's Daughter: The Strange World of Rosaleen Norton, Collins Australia, 1988

Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney

Hachette Australia, 2019, pp 1-311, ISBN: 9780733640988, RRP $32.99

  Mid-morning, Tuesday 12 January 1904, Watkin Street, Newtown. Four-year-old Mervyn Sly probably did not fully comprehend the horror he stumbled across when he saw his mother lying prostrate on a mattress on the floor of her bedroom. She was dressed only in her underclothing, a calico chemise (a full-length slip.) On her feet were her neatly laced up boots. Her throat had been cut so savagely that her head was semi-severed from her body and she was completely soaked in her own crimson blood. But he knew something was clearly ‘wrong with Mammy’ and he went outside to fetch his oldest brother who went upstairs to investigate.[1] Here, seven-year-old Bedford Sly saw his lifeless, blood drenched mother. He then made another terrible discovery; his father, fully dressed save for his usual hat, was lying in a similar condition close by on the bedroom floor. An open cut-throat razor was still tightly gripped in his right hand. They were both quite dead and the floor of the room was swathed in a thick red river. It was a truly ghastly spectacle and ‘in less than twenty-four hours, the headline ‘Newtown Tragedy’ was splashed across papers nationwide’.[2] Tanya Bretherton’s latest book The Suicide Bride opens with the grim double discovery of the murder-suicide of Alexander and Ellie Sly in Newtown on that fateful summer morning in 1904. It explores the possible motives behind the crime; the subsequent police investigation into it and the coroner’s inevitable, sad inquest. The book steps back to trace Alexander Sly’s own long family history to examine broader ideas of madness and criminal hereditary. It then moves on to reveal the deep and enduring repercussions that Sly’s final dreadful act had upon the lives left behind. This is certainly not a happy read. It is gruesome and grim and it is sadly just one Sydney story of murder-suicide - for there are so many more. It is however, an incredibly powerful, deeply moving story, meticulously researched and beautifully written with both careful nuance and rich aplomb. To his neighbours, Alexander William Bedford Sly (known as Alicks) was an odd and eccentric man. A tailor by trade, in 1903 Alicks found himself out of work due to the depressed state of the economy. He was also prone to violent outbursts and displays of intense spiritual rantings; both were juxtaposed by erratic and unstable hallucinations. His was indeed a volatile persona and to medical and criminological minds in the Edwardian era, this made him a dangerous man, bordering on the criminally insane.[3] And Ellie Sly? Victim or ‘willing’ participant? Whilst her own complicity in her dreadful violent death is not explicitly spelled out, some contemporaries at the time, and indeed the author, subtly suggest that she might have actually been a ‘consenting murder victim’.[4] This is utterly astonishing today, but it was not entirely unknown in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Though the early years of their marriage seem to have been happy ones, poverty, mental illness and madness slowly weaved an anxious troubling thread around the couple. Before her awful death, Ellie, like her husband, showed signs of persecution and paranoia. And by 1904, the Sly family were desperate and destitute. Their four surviving children - Bedford (b. 1896), Basil (b. 1897), Mervyn (b. 1899) and Olive (b. 1900) had all been terribly neglected; they were ill fed and emaciated and were often left unsupervised in the streets where they lived. Another child Norman was born in 1902 but he died at the age of 6 months. At the time, his symptoms presented as gastroenteritis but Bretherton speculates that his death might have in fact been caused by arsenic poison, deliberately and lethally administered by one of his despairing parents. This was never proved although, as the author perceptibly reminds us, today ‘strict protocols to screen biological samples for poisons are well developed’ but ‘in 1904, forensic science remained a fledgling field’.^[5] Somewhat sinisterly, at the time of the Newtown tragedy, young Olive was actually in the Prince Alfred Hospital recovering from ‘alleged’ food poisoning. The three young boys, then aged seven, six and four were temporarily taken to the Sydney Rescue Home of Hope in Camperdown, a place where ‘friendless’ and ‘fallen’ women gave birth and had their babies removed soon afterwards.[6] Some desperate women came here to recover from a botched illegal abortion, although sadly, many did not recover and left the home in a coffin. A month later, in February 1904 the brothers were sent to the Roman Catholic St Michael’s Orphanage at Baulkham Hills. Their sister Olive was officially adopted and left the Prince Alfred with new parents and a new name, Mollie Ford. We don’t know her later story. For her brothers however, ‘it would be ‘St Michael, not family, who would raise Bedford, Basil and Mervyn.’[7] And for the next few years their lives were structured around religion, rigorous routine and rigid rules of behaviour. On reaching the age of ten, they were all transferred seven kilometres away to the boys’ industrial school at St Vincent’s – also then known as Westmead Boy’s Home. It is all rather grim indeed. But it is in the portraits of the brother’s adult lives where the author’s sociological training really shines through. Eldest son Bedford never shook off the complex trauma that his parents’ death had unleashed. In his early teenage years, he ran away from St Vincent’s and from here ‘he just kept running’.[8] Tragically he did not stay in touch with his brothers. Instead, he lived a lonely, transient life, wandering through Sydney, country New South Wales and South Australia, often moving in and out of gaol, as a vagrant. His own sudden death, occurred on the anniversary of his parent’s death, on 12 January 1955. Reading his sad life story, one actually wonders how he managed to survive his solitary nomadic existence for so long. Happily, middle brother Basil fared rather better. As an adult, he made regular donations to both St Michael’s and St Vincent’s which suggests that his time there had possibly been a positive, affirming one. Somewhere along the way, Basil developed a deep love for poetry and Australian bush ballads, perhaps as a means of escapism, or maybe it was a wistful earning for an idyllic life of freedom. He married happily, but on being widowed early, successfully raised his two daughters alone. Youngest brother Mervyn tried to enlist in the AIF during World War One, but at just five foot and three inches he was deemed too short and was therefore declared ‘medically unfit’. He ultimately became a champion swimmer and pioneer surf lifesaver, managing harbour baths and teaching swimming at various coastal locations on the beaches to the north and south of Sydney.[9] In many respects, The Suicide Bride is a sweeping and at times soaring, family saga. There is a truly shocking twist towards the end which documents another murder-suicide which occurred in Five Dock, Sydney in 1929. But out of tragedy, also emerges a much broader, very rich history of daily life and death in Sydney and its neighbourhoods; religious divisions in the early twentieth century, intemperance and poverty, contemporary gender relations and the miseries of married life for many unhappy couples. Institutionalisation and orphanages, crime and madness, and the role of genes and hereditary are also here intimately explored. The Suicide Bride is ultimately a strong and sincere testimony to the struggle and survival of those born and raised in adverse family circumstances, the repercussions of crime and violence, and the stigma of mental struggle. It is then, a story which will resonate both loudly and profoundly for many today. On finishing the book, I was left oscillating between feeling both utterly bereft and yet also really hopeful. And that is surely the sign of a book that is brilliant, thought-provoking and profoundly emotive at one and the same time. Dr Catie Gilchrist August 2019 Dr Catie Gilchrist is an historian at the University of Sydney. She has written for the Dictionary of Sydney and the St John’s Cemetery project, and is the author of Murder, Misadventure and Miserable Ends: Tales from a Colonial Coroner’s Court (Sydney: HarperCollins 2019) Visit the publisher’s website here to purchase or read a sample of The Suicide Bride: https://www.hachette.com.au/tanya-bretherton/the-suicide-bride-a-mystery-of-tragedy-and-family-secrets-in-edwardian-sydney   Footnotes: [1] Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2019, p 5. [2] Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2019, p 38. [3] Clearly, and with the benefit of hindsight at least, he was a man in need of institutionalisation in, to use the phraseology of the day, one of the state’s many ‘lunatic’ asylums. [4] Although the coronial inquest concluded that she had been murdered by her husband. [5] Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2019, p 117. [6] It was founded in 1883 by George Ardill of the Sydney Rescue Work Society. In 1890 it was based in Stanley Street (today known as Gilpin Street) and in 1904 became known as the South Sydney Women’s Hospital until it closed in 1976. [7] Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2019, p 194. [8] Tanya Bretherton, The Suicide Bride; A Mystery of Tragedy and Family Secrets in Edwardian Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2019, p 227. [9] According to Bretherton, Florence had possibly been infected by VD by her first husband on his return from World War One.

Mr PN Russell, a generous donor to the Sydney University 1895, The Sydney Mail and New South Wales Advertiser, 7 December 1895, p1171

There is virtually nothing in Sydney that has not, at some stage, had the hand of an engineer pass over it. The designs of our roads, bridges, buildings, houses, cars, buses, chairs, bollards, even the sound of a band and acoustics of a concert have all had engineering input at some point along the way. Sydney is shaped by engineers and has been from the start. In the nineteenth century, prior to formal engineering training, many engineers started their careers in practical work, hands-on in factories and foundries. One such was Peter Nicol Russell, himself the son of a foundry man.

  Listen to Mark and Tess on 2SER here 

The Russell family, originally from England, arrived in Sydney in 1838 from Hobart where they had established a small business. Sydney, a growing colonial city in the 1830s offered more opportunities and business ventures for the Russells, and Peter and three of his brothers set up as the Russell Bros in Queens Place, an old street north of Bridge Street close to the harbour. In 1840 they expanded into Bridge Street and Macquarie Place with a new foundry and works where they sold imported steam engines and other machinery. Engineering was an emerging field at the time and the Russell brothers were as keen to teach about it as they were to practice. From 1841 Peter gave lectures at the Sydney Mechanics School of Arts about steam power, using a model steam engine they had made to demonstrate his lectures.

Advertisement for the Sydney Foundry in the Colonial Observer, 12 November 1842, p603

In 1842 he opened the Sydney Foundry and Engineering Works, while his brothers, not wanting to join the business, instead expanded into shipbuilding. At his new foundry, Peter cast iron and brass, making kitchen ranges, parlour gates, cemetery surrounds, stairs and other decorative iron works. He secured government contracts for iron work at Darlinghurst, Newcastle and Maitland gaols and with the City of Sydney, including the newly installed cast iron boundary markers, water pipes and stone crushing machines. His brothers re-joined him in 1843 and together they formed PN Russell & Co, which operated for another 32 years until increasing competition and industrial action finally forced a closure. Although Peter left Sydney soon after the closure, relocating back to London, he kept a keen interest in the development of engineering as a profession in Australia. In 1895 he donated £50,000 to the University of Sydney for the endowment of the Department of Engineering. In 1904 he gave the same again, with an extra £25,000 from the State for a new Engineering building ensuring engineering would have a permanent place at the university.

Assembled workmen at PN Russell & Co c1870-75, Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales (SPF/504)

Knighted in 1904, Sir Peter Nicol Russell died in London in July 1905, leaving over £13,000 to charitable organisations in Australia, including £3,000 to the Engineering Association of New South Wales. Head to the Dictionary of Sydney for more details and Mark's entry on Peter Nicol Russell here. This month Engineers Australia are celebrating their centenary, you can find out more on their website: https://100yearsea.com.au/  

Mark Dunn is the Chair of the NSW Professional Historians Association and former Deputy Chair of the Heritage Council of NSW. He is currently a Visiting Scholar at the State Library of NSW. You can read more of his work on the Dictionary of Sydney here. Mark appears on 2SER on behalf of the Dictionary of Sydney in a voluntary capacity. Thanks Mark!

  Listen to the audio of Mark & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning at 8:15 to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.    

Lisa with her treasured 1977 edition of the Margaret Fulton Cookbook

An officially decreed Australian Living Treasure (aka an Aussie icon) died on 24 July. Her name? Margaret Fulton. Listen to the whole conversation with Lisa and Tess on 2SER here   Now, I'm a bit of a collector of Sydney cookery books, so it won't surprise you to learn that I have a number of Margaret Fulton's cook books. The reason I collect cookery books is that they are a snapshot of the time, and show how people ate, what ingredients were readily available, what was novel or new, and attitudes towards nutrition. Over time cookery books chart our changing attitudes to food, as well as changing tastes and technology. Over the last couple of weeks I've been cooking a range of recipes out of these as a tribute to Margaret. If you've never tried one of her recipes, you should. They are no-nonsense, easy to follow, and tasty. Margaret Fulton hit the foodie scene in the 1960s, generations before anyone had even dreamed of Master Chef. Towards the end of the second world war, Margaret secured a job as a demonstrator for AGL - showcasing how to cook scones and sponges with effortless ease in an AGL oven. Both gas and electricity companies in the 1940s and 50s employed female demonstrators to show how easy modern appliances were for cooking up a sensation. But it was in 1960, when Margaret joined Woman's Day as a food writer, that her career took off. Eight years later, she released her first cook book. The Margaret Fulton Cookbook was first published in 1968. Comprehensive and colourful, the book gave home cooks a new confidence. Margaret devised a guide for beginner cooks to indicate the simplicity (not the difficulty!) of each recipe - a one, two or three star recipe, with one being the easiest and three being "a special dish, requiring more skill and probably taking some time to prepare". (Master Chef eat your heart out - let's not intimidate, but encourage everyone to cook!) The Margaret Fulton Cookbook is an absolute classic. It is held in the National Museum of Australia and has featured in the National Library of Australia's Treasures gallery. It was so popular the cookbook was reprinted every year for the next decade, with a 50th anniversary edition published in 2018. My copy is the 1977 edition and the publishers claimed at that point that 530,000 copies had been printed. Australian had a population of just over 14 million in 1977, so that means 1 in every 26 households across Australia had a copy of Margaret's cookbook. That means 2 to 3 people in every street in Sydney had a copy. Margaret Fulton is credited with introducing international cuisine into many homes. In the international cookery section the home cook could find 'hot spicy dishes from Mexico, pizzas from Italy, paella from Spain, exciting seafoods from Australia, the subtle beautifully prepared food of the Orient and smorrebrods from Scandinavia.' She also explained to Australians how to eat spaghetti, at the time still a novel dish in the Australian kitchen: a) A spoon and fork can be used to mix the spaghetti, sauce and cheese b) Spear a few strands with fork. The spoon will help you coil the spaghetti c) Wind around fork, just enough for one mouthful, and left neatly from plate. From what I've seen on Twitter, lots of people still have The Margaret Fulton Crock-pot Cookbook too. It was first published in 1976 and was later re-issued as Margaret Fulton Slow Cooking. (Again, she was ahead of the curve with her emphasis on slow cooking.) Later on she produced a microwave cookbook, and of course, volumes on particular types of cuisine, such as Chinese cooking, baking and so on. Then in 1983 she released Margaret Fulton's Encyclopedia of Food & Cookery. I taught myself to cook with my Mum's copy in the 1980s and when a new edition was released 2005 I snapped it up. Whenever there is a debate about cookery in my household, I always ask "What does Margaret say?" and reach for the Margaret Fulton Encyclopedia. (Alternatively, we might also ask "What does Stephanie say?" and reach for the rival Cook's Companion by Stephanie Alexander). Margaret saw her revised Encyclopedia as a compendium of her life's work, with notes, tips and tricks. Margaret Fulton was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia in 1983 in recognition of service to the media as a journalist and writer in the field of cookery, and in 1997 was recognised by the National Trust as an Australian Living Treasure. Her family has accepted the NSW Government's offer of a State Memorial Service (details are yet to be announced), acknowledging her contribution to our culture and community. She continued producing cook books and encouraging people to aspire to wholesome, simple cooking all her life, but she also encouraged people to be adventurous, and once mastered to "give it the stamp of your personality" and make each recipe your own. And she particularly empowered women to make choices and to enjoy their roles as mothers, homemakers and workers. One of my favourite recipes is her beef stroganoff (find it here). It is simple, quick, and oh so tasty. As Margaret says, "Bon Appetit, Bonne Cuisine". Vale Margaret Fulton (1924-2019)   Dr Lisa Murray is the Historian of the City of Sydney and the former chair of the Dictionary of Sydney Trust. She is a Visiting Scholar at the State Library of New South Wales and the author of several books, including Sydney Cemeteries: a field guide. She appears on 2SER on behalf of the Dictionary of Sydney in a voluntary capacity. Thanks Lisa!  You can follow her on Twitter here: @sydneyclio Listen to Lisa & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast on 107.3 every Wednesday morning at 8:15-8:20 am to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.   

'She is 24, has a smile like sunshine, a devastating humor, and stands nearly 5 feet 10 inches in her nylons.', The Australian Women's Weekly, 1 December 1954, p69 via Trove

Doris Goddard, the glamorous publican of the iconic Hollywood Hotel in Surry Hills, died last week at the age of 89. On Friday on 2SER Breakfast, Lisa and Tess talked about the life and careers of the much loved 'Gorgeous Goddard'. Listen to the whole conversation with Lisa and Tess on 2SER here   Born at St Margaret's in Darlinghurst in 1930, Doris Goddard grew up with her mother Essie in Cowper Street, Glebe. She did her Leaving Certificate at a convent school in Moss Vale and in 1948 went to the University of Sydney to do an Arts degree. There she joined the Sydney University Drama Society (aka SUDS), and after six months she 'just had to get into show business'. Doris began performing in musicals and singing in nightclubs like the 'Celebrity Club' in York Street. In 1952 Doris left for London, 'seeking new world's to conquer'. She was also heading overseas for an operation on a congenital heart defect, which could then only be performed in London.

A series of newspaper and magazine advertisements for Arnott's Arrowroot biscuits in 1931 featured the young Doris Goddard of Glebe, The Australian woman's mirror, 19 May 1931, p41 via Trove

The operation a success, Doris started singing in clubs, perfecting her performance and point singing techniques. Point singing, a popular cabaret and variety style, is both singing and acting, using spoken word and acting as well as singing to bring out 'the point' of a song, and tell the story. She was working in variety theatre and nightclubs, and was also doing modelling as at about 5′8″ she was taller and more statuesque than most women at the time. She was working as a nightclub singer at the Coconut Grove in the West End in 1954 when an agent sent her for an audition for a part in the British film Geordie. She was offered the role of Helga, a Danish 'giantess shot putter' who falls in love with a hammer thrower. With this success, she found work in other films, including Iron Petticoat with Bob Hope and Katherine Hepburn, as well as television, radio and theatre. In 1958 Doris returned to Sydney to see her family. Her mother asked her not to go back, a difficult decision as it meant giving up her promising career. Her mother prevailed, and Doris decided to go into into the hotel business, something she later described as a 'bit like show business'. She and Essie became the licensees of the Belmore Park Hotel in Surry Hills in the early 1960s, and then the West End in Balmain and the Marlborough in Newtown, before buying the Hotel Hollywood on Foster Street in Surry Hills in 1977.

The Australian Women's Weekly, 3 March 1982, p21, via Trove

The hotel had originally been called the Nevada, but in 1941 it had been rebuilt and renamed the Hollywood for the film industry that was clustered around the area, like Paramount House and 20th Century Fox. By 1977 the pub was bare and run down and numbers were dwindling, but Doris built it back up again. Female publicans had been around in Sydney for a long time of course, but the exotic cache of having a former Hollywood actress running the pub lent the hotel an additional glamour. She put carpet down, installed the booths and the wood panelling on the walls and made everyone welcome, often sitting on the bar, playing her guitar and singing. Doris and her husband Charlie lived in one of the apartments above the hotel and her mother Essie lived in the other. Doris continued her acting career in Sydney in a smaller way, taking on roles in the Sundowners, Robbery Under Arms, Number 96, Caddie and Tim. The hotel has also featured as a location in many productions, its Art Deco charm and atmosphere an asset for period features in particular. Since 1977, the Hollywood Hotel has been a place where everyone has felt welcome, thanks to Doris. Her beautifully diverse clientele will miss her but she certainly won't be forgotten.   You can listen to two interviews with Doris by the ABC: ABC Half hour interview presented by Michelle Rayner in 2008: https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/archived/verbatim/hollywood-doris/3281524 And another interview in 2005: https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/archived/radioeye/a-tale-of-two-hollywoods-and-silenced-by-the/3274682 and the National Film and Sound Archive oral history interview by Nancye Bridges in 1990: https://soundcloud.com/nfsaaustralia/doris-goddard-oral-history-interview-1990   Dr Lisa Murray is the Historian of the City of Sydney and the former chair of the Dictionary of Sydney Trust. She is a Visiting Scholar at the State Library of New South Wales and the author of several books, including Sydney Cemeteries: a field guide. She appears on 2SER on behalf of the Dictionary of Sydney in a voluntary capacity. Thanks Lisa!  You can follow her on Twitter here: @sydneyclio Listen to Lisa & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast on 107.3 every Wednesday morning at 8:15-8:20 am to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney. 

Dawes' notebooks on display in the Living Language exhibition at the State Library of New South Wales

As part of the UNESCO International Year of Indigenous Languages, there's a fascinating exhibition on right now at the State Library of New South Wales that looks at the Aboriginal languages of New South Wales. There are about 35 different languages around New South Wales, and the team behind the exhibition have been travelling around the state talking to communities, language custodians and educators about their work. Today on 2SER Breakfast, curator Ronald Briggs talked to Tess about one of the (many) exhibition highlights.

  Listen to Ronald and Tess on 2SER here 

To put together a language exhibition has been a bit of a challenge. Exhibitions tend to be about something you can see and language is usually something you hear rather than see, but we've come up with a great mix of artefacts, pictures, audio and video that celebrates the resilience of our Aboriginal languages using original documents and interviews with language custodians on Country. As part of this mix, it's very exciting to have the notebooks of Lieutenant William Dawes back in the country. Dawes was an officer of the marines on the First Fleet. He was a young man, about 26 or 27, and a scientist and astronomer, but he was also very interested in language and the local Aboriginal people. He became friends with the local people and made lots of notes about his conversations with them. As part of his astronomical work, Dawes moved out of the main part of the colony to the area now known as Dawes Point, where the southern pylon of the Harbour Bridge site. He built an observatory and lived in a small shack where the local people visited him. A young woman named Patyegarang, who we believe was about 15 or 16, became particularly good friends with Dawes, and she taught him the Sydney language.

Grammatical forms of the language of N. S. Wales, in the neighbourhood of Sydney, by _ Dawes, in the year 1790, courtesy SOAS University of London

Other people wrote down Sydney language words like Bondi, Parramatta and Coogee that appear in several contemporary documents.  Dawes didn't just write down the words in his notebooks though, he was speaking it. As well as writing out full sentences, he was working out the grammar and how to communicate. He was the most fluent of the colonists in the Sydney language and helped the local people to converse with other white colonists. Among other things, Dawes recorded the Sydney language names for places around the harbour, our main source of this information. He also noted his interactions with local people and these give us a real insight into their relationships and day to day life in the early colony. In one incident he recorded, he was shaving Bennelong, who told Patyegarang to 'stop making me laugh, can't you see he has a razor?'. Dawes was only here until 1791, and when he left he took his notebooks with him. They are now held in the Archives of the SOAS University of London, but they are back in Sydney for the exhibition which is a real event. The exhibition is free and will be on until May 2020. It's a beautiful, rich exhibition with lots to explore, so allow a bit of time when you visit. You may want to come back more than once! There are some great associated events too, so keep an eye out for those. The Living Language research day this coming Friday sees guest speakers, linguists and the Library’s Indigenous team explore the extensive language collections held at the State Library of NSW (click here for details) and you can hear more from Ronald and Melissa Jackson, another part of the team, on 8 August for a special Curator's Choice: Aboriginal Languages of NSW (details here).  You can read more about Dawes' notebooks  on the Library's website here. Head to the Library website for more information about the exhibition: https://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/exhibitions/living-language-country-culture-community     Ronald Briggs is a curator at the State Library of New South Wales.  He is a Gamilaraay man from Moree in NSW. He appears in a voluntary capacity today for the Dictionary of Sydney. Thanks Ronald! For more, listen to the podcast with Ronald & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning to hear more stories from the Dictionary of Sydney.

Jessica North, Esther; The extraordinary true story of the First Fleet girl who became First Lady of the colony

Allen & Unwin, 2019, pp 1-277, ISBN 9781760527372, p/bk, AUS$29.99

They could have hanged Esther Abrahams. In 1786, the pretty young Jewish woman had attempted to conceal twenty-four yards of pilfered black lace under her petticoats. Worth fifty shillings, thefts of such value technically led to the gallows. But luckily for Esther, she was instead sentenced to ‘exile beyond the seas’ for seven years.  Before she was transported, she was incarcerated in the abysmal conditions of London’s notorious Newgate Prison. Here, the sixteen-year-old prisoner discovered that she was ‘with child’ and gave birth to her daughter Rosanna in March 1787. A few weeks later, both mother and infant were removed to the Lady Penrhyn to start their incredible eight-month journey to the other side of the world. The thief and her daughter were to be a tiny part of one of the most remarkable experiments ever undertaken in penal, maritime and colonial history; the British settlement of New South Wales. And both their lives would be profoundly transformed by it. Fast forward to 1814, Esther had given birth to eight more children and was a much-loved grandmother.  After twenty-six years together, she was now the well-respected wife of Major George Johnston, who had been one of the leading movers and shakers in the ‘Rum Rebellion’ against ‘tyrant’ Lieutenant-Governor William Bligh in 1808. In her own right, Esther was also a much-revered lady and astute businesswoman and for years, during Johnston’s frequent absences, had successfully overseen his extensive estates in Annandale and elsewhere. Daughter Rosanna had been the first ‘free’ Jewish settler in New South Wales back in 1788. By this date too, she had also become a regarded colonist and a prosperous wife and mother. This is an inspired and remarkable ‘rags to riches’ story. From convict thief to one of the colony’s most respected matriarch’s, Jessica North’s Esther is the fascinating account of a truly remarkable woman, cleverly interwoven with all the leading social and political events of the first three decades of early Sydney. Here we encounter the large and colourful early colonial cast - from the officers of the First Fleet to the convict bolters, Mary and William Bryant, and the ‘convicts made good’ Susannah and Henry Kable. First Australians Arabanoo, Bennelong and Colbee all appear, as does the Reverend Samuel Marsden and the gentleman rogue Dr D’Arcy Wentworth, and later, Second Fleet arrivals John and Elizabeth Macarthur. Life in the nascent colony is vividly, vibrantly and gruesomely explored; desolate isolation, hunger and drought, devastating bushfires and floods, curious and strange wildlife, convict floggings and hangings, and early violent encounters with the Gadigal peoples. All are skilfully entwined within Esther’s own epic saga of personal struggle and survival. The early story of Sydney will be a familiar one to many Dictionary of Sydney readers. However, North’s writing is so utterly beautiful and compelling that reading her prose is akin to hearing the remarkable history for the first time with much wonderment (and at times) great disbelief – because as the old adage goes, ‘truth really is stranger than fiction’.  It is also so richly evocative that at times I felt I was watching the drama emerge in real life, that I was right there with them, rather than merely sitting reading a book in a café in Rozelle with a yawning gap of two hundred years between us.  This is a book that is also striking, inventive and full of nuance to person, place and period. Indeed, (albeit on a personal note), this is up there with Kate Grenville’s The Secret River (2005) which also had the same deeply profound, spine tingling effect upon me. Meticulously researched over ten long years, North’s depth of knowledge of early colonial history is deep and clear. She has consulted official colonial records, contemporary accounts and journals, and personal letters and diaries. And, as detailed chapter notes explain at the end of the book, in between the spaces and silences of the archival records, the author has used other close sources to re-imagine what possibly might have been the scenario when in fact it cannot be known for sure. It makes for a delightful narrative, and by delineating what is fact from what is fictive in the book, North successfully and skilfully navigates the power of her own soaring imagination to fill in any historical silences, weaving a new thread between history and fiction. Esther is beautifully – actually it is sumptuously – illustrated, and it contains extensive notes and a comprehensive bibliography. It is also indexed marvellously. This book is a triumph. I absolutely loved it. Dr Catie Gilchrist July 2019 Dr Catie Gilchrist is an historian at the University of Sydney. She has written for the Dictionary of Sydney and the St John’s Cemetery project, and is the author of Murder, Misadventure and Miserable Ends: Tales from a Colonial Coroner’s Court (Sydney: HarperCollins 2019) Visit the publisher’s website to purchase or to find a sample of Esther: https://www.allenandunwin.com/browse/books/general-books/history/Esther-Jessica--North-9781760527372

An account of the English colony in New South Wales : with remarks on the dispositions, customs, manners, &c. of the native inhabitants of that country, compiled, by permission, from the MSS. of Lieutenant-Governor King by David Collins, London: 1798-1802, courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of NSW (Q79/60 v. 1, p335)

When people talk about the convicts sent to Australia across the early years of colonisation, there are two dominant stories that emerge. There’s the story of the unjustly treated convict: driven, by poverty, to steal basic supplies such as clothing and food to provide for their family. There’s also the story of the terrible villain: the foul murderer despatched to the far side of the world, ridding England of those who would commit the worst crimes. The truth is somewhere in between. Sydney’s early days as a gaol saw a large amount of criminal activity with some crimes perpetrated by accidental criminals and other offences committed by career crooks. Theft was rampant. There were numerous assaults. Drunkenness provoked more than one ugly brawl. But what about murder? There were doubtless many acts of violence committed upon the First Nations people but how long did it take for colonists to start killing each other? The answer might surprise you.

  Listen to Rachel and Tess on 2SER here 

In November 1788, a soldier met an untimely, non-work related end when he ‘died at the hospital of the bruises he received in fighting with one of his comrades, who was, with three others, taken into custody and afterward tried upon a charge of murder’. The men responsible for the unexpected death would, however, be found guilty of manslaughter and not murder with ‘each sentenced to receive two hundred lashes’. So, while violence was not uncommon, murder was a relatively rare act and not all of the murders committed in colonial Sydney were solved. Some people just disappeared. It’s possible a murder was committed in late 1788 when a soldier suddenly went missing. There was another case of a missing person in April 1793, just over five years after the First Fleet arrived. David Collins recording that some people: … were taken up at Parramatta on suspicion of having murdered one of the watchmen belonging to that settlement; the circumstances of which affair one of them had been overheard relating to a fellow-convict, while both were under confinement for some other offence. A watchman certainly had been missing for some time past; but after much inquiry and investigation nothing appeared that could furnish matter for a criminal prosecution against them. The first convict in the colony believed to have been a victim of murder, dying at the hands of his fellow colonists, was John Lewis in January 1794. An enthusiastic gambler, Lewis regularly boasted of how he kept his illicit earnings stitched within his clothing. Again, the event is noted by David Collins who wrote that: … an elderly convict, employed to go out with the cattle at Parramatta, was most barbarously murdered. … [The body was found] … covered with logs, boughs, and grass. Some native dogs, led by the scent of human blood, had found it, and by gnawing off both the hands, and the entire flesh from one arm, had added considerably to the horrid spectacle which the body exhibited … Some brief inquiries were made in an attempt to identify those who were responsible for the incredibly violent crime but it was decided by authorities that the case would not be solved unless one of those responsible gave themselves or one of their gang members up.

An account of the English colony in New South Wales : with remarks on the dispositions, customs, manners, &c. of the native inhabitants of that country, compiled, by permission, from the MSS. of Lieutenant-Governor King by David Collins, London: 1798-1802, courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of NSW (Q79/60 v. 1, p336)

Another unsolved murder case is the killing of Constable Joseph Luker, bludgeoned on the night of 26 August 1803. Luker was investigating the theft of a small, portable desk when he was attacked. The assault was brutal, with various weapons used including the stolen desk, the frame of a wheelbarrow, Luker’s cutlass and cutlass guard. Ex-convicts Constables William Bladders and Isaac Simmonds were charged with murder but found not guilty. Constable John Russell was indicted for breaking and entering but found not guilty due to insufficient evidence. Known thief Joseph Samuels was also indicted for breaking and entering. Samuels confessed to robbery but not to murder. Another known thief, Richard Jackson also confessed to robbery and, as a witness for the Crown, implicated Samuels, before being declared innocent. Samuels was convicted of robbery on 20 September 1803 but nobody was convicted of Luker’s murder. Crime, from petty thefts to dreadful murders, is always unsettling. Unsolved crimes are especially disturbing. They leave a gap in the narrative. There is no neat, final chapter offering justice for the victim or resolution for the community.   Check the subject heading Crime for more historical crimes in Sydney on the Dictionary of Sydney: https://dictionaryofsydney.org/subject/crime References John Cobley, Sydney Cove, 1788. (1962; repr., Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1980) John Cobley, Sydney Cove, 1793-1795: The Spread of Settlement. (Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1983) David Collins, An Account of the English Colony of New South Wales (1798; repr., Adelaide: Libraries Board of South Australia, 1971) Bruce Swanton, A Chronological Account of Crime, Public Order & Police in Sydney 1788-1810. (Phillip: Australian Institute of Criminology, 1983) Louise Steding, Death on Night Watch: Constable Joseph Looker, 1803 (Sydney: In Focus, 2016) The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (Sydney: Government Printer, 1803–1842)   Dr Rachel Franks is the Coordinator, Education & Scholarship at the State Library of New South Wales and a Conjoint Fellow at the University of Newcastle. She holds a PhD in Australian crime fiction and her research on crime fiction, true crime, popular culture and information science has been presented at numerous conferences. An award-winning writer, her work can be found in a wide variety of books, journals and magazines as well as on social media. She's appearing for the Dictionary today in a voluntary capacity. Thank you Rachel!  For more, listen to the podcast with Rachel & Tess here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning to hear more stories from the Dictionary of Sydney.    

Five unnamed women who were working as domestic servants in Sydney under the auspices of the 'Aborigines Protection Department', Sydney Mail 24 May 1922, p23 via Trove

Walking around Sydney’s wealthy suburbs it is easy to be seduced by beautiful heritage houses with their immaculate shingled gables, filigreed iron lace work balconies and stain glass windows. But behind closed doors some these grand houses hide a grim history. Between 1910 to the late 1920s, many Aboriginal girls from the Stolen Generations were put to work in these homes as indentured live-in maids.   Listen to Minna and Julia on 2SER here  'I cannot forget the detail of that moment. It stands out as if it were yesterday. It broke our hearts — tearing us apart — by taking us away to learn domestic work.' (1) – Margaret Tucker The NSW Aborigines Protection Board removed many Aboriginal children from their families from the 1880s to 1969. Incomplete records make it hard to know exactly how many Aboriginal girls and women were ‘apprenticed’ into domestic labour during this time. But between 1910s -1930s, it is recorded that over 500 girls were placed in white homes across Sydney and NSW. This included homes in regional NSW as well as fashionable middle-class suburbs like Strathfield, Killara, Vaucluse and Neutral Bay. Mosman alone had 61 households with Aboriginal girls working as ‘domestics.’(2) After being removed from their families and communities the girls were first taken to Cootamundra Domestic Training Home where they taught domestic skills. The scheme meant once girls were allocated to a home they were legally bound to their employers for as long as four years. Nominal wages were set by the Protection Board and paid into a trust account, but few girls ever received the money for their work.

Margaret Tucker at the Aborigines day of mourning, 26 January 1938 (detail), Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales (a429004 / Q 059/9)
(Man magazine, March 1938, p108)

Margaret Tucker was just 12 when she and her sister were taken from their mother at Darlington Point in the Riverina in 1917. She trained for 3 years at Cootamundra Girls Home and carried scars on her body for life inflicted by what she described as the ‘beltings’ she received.(3) At 16 she was placed in a grazier’s family in Neutral Bay but ran away to Walgett before being caught again by the Protection Board, ultimately working until 1925 as a servant in private homes. In her adult years, Margaret lived in Victoria where she transformed the injustices of her early life into a tireless campaign for the rights of Indigenous Australians. She was one of Australia’s earliest and most well-known activists, and was one of the organisers of the 1938 Day of Mourning protest in Sydney during the 150th anniversary of the invasion of Australia. Today repayment and acknowledgement of stolen wages is still being fought for. In 2004, the NSW Government established the Aboriginal Trust Fund Repayment Scheme (ATFRS) to assess claims and pay Aboriginal people and their descendants the money owed to them. Recently just over the border a landmark class action lodged on behalf of 10,000 Indigenous people has settled with the Queensland government to repay $190M in stolen wages from 1939 to 1972. Listen to the podcast with  Minna & Julia here, and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Tess Connery on 107.3 every Wednesday morning to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.  Further reading:  Margaret Tucker, If Everyone Cared: Autobiography of Margaret Tucker, Sydney: Ure Smith,1977 Inara Walden 'To send her to service': Aboriginal domestic servants [online],Aboriginal Law Bulletin, Vol. 3, No. 76, Oct 1995: 12-14, https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=960303153;res=IELAPA viewed 17 July 2019 Margaret Tucker MBE(C), 1904-1996 A leading figure of the 20th century, Aboriginal Victoria website, https://w.www.vic.gov.au/aboriginalvictoria/community-engagement/leadership-programs/aboriginal-honour-roll/2013-victorian-aboriginal-honour-roll/margaret-tucker-mbe-c.html viewed 17 July 2019 Notes: (1) Farquharson, John 'Tucker, Margaret Elizabeth (Auntie Marge) (1904–1996)', Obituaries Australia website, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://ia.anu.edu.au/biography/tucker-margaret-elizabeth-auntie-marge-1556/text1618, accessed 17 July 2019. (2) Walden, Inara. 'To send her to service': Aboriginal domestic servants [online], Aboriginal Law Bulletin, Vol. 3, No. 76, Oct 1995: 12-14 ,https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=960303153;res=IELAPA, viewed 17 July 2019 (3) Margaret Tucker in Lousy Little Sixpence, A film by Alec Morgan and Gerry Bostock, Ronin Films, 1983