The Ironbark Brig from Manning River

This small advertisement appeared in a number of Liverpool, UK, newspapers in August of 1845.

For SALE 

The new Brig BENJAMIN BOYD 

Length 75 feet, breadth 19 feet 6-10ths, depth 12 feet, 143 tons.
This beautiful vessel was built in New South Wales, framed throughout with iron bark, planked with flooded gum, each equal in durability to East India teak; coppered and copper fastened; her sailing qualities are first rate, her passage from Sydney 108 days; shifts without ballast, and is of an easy draft of water. 

For further particulars apply on board, in the Union Dock; to
T. R. Robins, Hatton-garden, or to
D. TONGE, Broker, 7, Castle Street.

I first encountered a reference to this ship when visiting the Swansea Maritime Museum in Wales some years ago, where its name appeared in a list of local well-known 19th Century vessels in which many Swansea men had crewed.

With time limited, I was unable to investigate further at the museum but was intrigued as to its origins as I had previously researched the life and times of Benjamin Boyd, an enterprising scallywag who became infamous in Colonial Australia and who had fascinated me so much that I made him the subject of my first novel. *  

Naturally, I had wondered if the vessel was somehow connected to him but with Boyd being a Scot, and with no known connections to Wales, I assumed it was just a coincidental name.

Benjamin Boyd (1801-1851), a rare water-damaged image
owned by the late Mr Rene Davison of Eden, NSW

I remembered that visit to the museum when recently I stumbled on another reference to this vessel and with much more information now available via old newspapers on the Internet I decided to see if I could find out more about it.

The “Triton” was the first brig of three built by master boat-builder John Nicholson in 1844 on the Manning River, New South Wales, where the town of Taree now stands.

Briefly owned by early Colonial mariner, Captain George Browning (a remarkable character whose own hair-raising story of being kidnapped by escaped convicts is worthy of another novel), it was then bought in Sydney by a Captain Tomkins, who changed the name of the brig from “Triton” to “Benjamin Boyd”, after the prominent entrepreneur then at the height of his power and influence in New South Wales.

Unidentified Australian two-masted brig, Hobart.
Many similar coastal trading brig images at Tasmanian Maritime Museum

Tomkins sailed the small brig to England with a cargo of wool and other goods, but with an economic depression taking hold in the Colony (destined to be the ruin of Boyd) and perhaps debts owing or due on Tomkins' own account, the vessel never returned to Sydney and was put up for sale.

Apparently it was then re-registered with Bristol as its home port and with registration No. 7803, beginning a long and busy career sailing back and forth around the British Isles, Europe and West Africa with various cargoes including timber and coal and it spent many years bringing imports of wine and spirits from Spain and Portugal to England.

It was inevitable that the vessel would suffer wear and tear and several mishaps as a result of storms and the following sad report appeared in a Norwich newspaper in 1868 when its then master and part-owner, Samuel Nicholas, suffered such depression that he jumped overboard.

But the vessel must have been rescued and repaired as she appeared again for sale in Bristol and passed into new hands periodically during every decade that followed, with various owners in Glamorgan, Belfast, Wexford and Somerset.

Sturdy and reliable, the little two-masted ironbark brig “Benjamin Boyd” criss-crossed the seas a remarkable 62 years from when she was built!

Her end came on 27 November 1906 when she collided off Penarth with a tramp steamer and her owner and master at the time was Thomas Chidgey, who was a well-known marine artist. **

It seems the steamer  “Gardepee” ^ was in the wrong, but fortunately Captain Chidgey, his son Robert who was the Mate, and the other crew all escaped. The cargo and “Benjamin Boyd” was fully insured. Being of sound and reliable construction, throughout her career she was always listed as A1 at Lloyds.

The vessel would have employed generations of sailors during that time, many of them possibly from the same families. The Swansea Mariners project provides some of these names, including, to my surprise, a Captain Jewell/Jewill from Clovelly, possibly a distant ancestor of my late husband who is descended from Jewells in that area.

It also may be that another of my husband’s ancestors, another seafarer, John Darch, was familiar with the comings and goings of the vessel having been a both a member of the Welsh Coastguard and a gateman on the dock gates at West Bute Dock at the time when the sturdy little ironbark brig from New South Wales finally ended her days, being salvaged and put up for auction.

One has to wonder where all that ironbark and flooded gum wood went after the vessel was stripped. 

Perhaps some was used to repair other vessels, perhaps it went into building timber, floors or even pieces of furniture. It could be that Australian timber pieces from the  “Benjamin Boyd” still exist somewhere.

But what a fine testament to the quality of the workmanship and skills of John Nicholson who built her so long ago on the banks of what was then a remote Australian river. #

Barque "Fanny Fisher", the third vessel built by John Nicholson
 on the Manning River, NSW, in the 1840s and which also had a 60 year career

Notes:

* "Time and a Legend" is currently out of print.

** Chidgey was born in 1855, eleven years after the “Benjamin Boyd” first started her career. There are a handful of his paintings to be seen online, but he is supposed to have painted hundreds and surely somewhere there is one of the “Benjamin Boyd”. 

^  She was eventually sunk by a U-boat during World War I with the loss of most of her crew.

# Sadly, John Nicholson drowned accidentally aged just 49. 

Numerous reference sources include TROVE, British Newspaper Archive, Crew Lists UK, Boat Registers NSW, National Archives UK, Ancestry, FindmyPast, Manning Historical Society, ArtFind UK, Australian National Maritime Museum, Tasmanian and West Australian Maritime Museums.

(Apparently at this Swansea hotel you can stay in bedrooms named after well-known local ships, one of them being the “Benjamin Boyd”!)

Taking the waters

As we hunker down hoping to avoid a deadly 21st Century disease, our ancestors were no strangers to doing the same in order to avoid a range of plagues and illnesses that swept through their communities on a regular basis. To try and combat them, all manner of cures and preventative measures came in and out of fashion, many based in superstition and fear, others were exploitative “quackery”, but some had merit and still have their supporters today. 

Since ancient times, there have always been those who believed in the remedy to “take the waters” at mineral springs or spas. (The English town of Bath being one of the most famous examples.) The Victorians and Edwardians were particularly keen to try and avoid the threats from diseases and pollution in their congested towns and cities. One such establishment that flourished from the mid-1800s to early 1900s is just a few minutes’ drive from where I live.

(My photo)

It once stood on the shores of Corio Bay near Geelong and was the Clifton Springs mineral springs and spa complex. At its height it was serviced by regular ferry services around Port Phillip Bay from the city of Melbourne and holiday-makers, the ill or infirm would flock to take advantage of the supposedly health-giving properties of the mineral spring water.

Three of the popular Port Phillip Bay steamers

Although almost no sign of them remain today, there were originally at least seven springs emerging from the cliffs along the shore of the bay. These were concentrated in just a fifty metre stretch of beach known as “The Dell”.

The Dell today. Remains of the 1890 jetty can still be seen.
(My photo.)

Promenading along in front of the bath house

The springs first appeared on the Lands Department survey maps in 1854 and by the 1870s the site consisted of a commercial bottling facility, kiosk, bath house and pumping station. Overlooking all this activity was a magnificent hotel offering every luxury and, by 1880, the bottling company was selling 5,000 bottles of the spring water annually.

Unfortunately by the mid-1920s, the once health-giving springs had become polluted and were more likely to make you ill than well and the whole complex was forced to close. The original hotel burnt down in 1921 and all the other Victorian era buildings had disappeared by 1925.

If you wander along the foreshore, there are still some archaeological remains to be found of the bottling and pumping activities, bits of bottles or ceramics and old metal pipes. 

Archaelogical remains
Weekend Notes

Where the elegant hotel once stood is the rather blah mid-20th Century Clifton Springs Golf Club building, although it is worth visiting the bistro just for the view. Plus a sprint up and down the steep incline or steps to The Dell is today’s way of keeping fit!

One of the steamers, Ozone, was wrecked further down the Bay at Indented Head and one of its paddle wheels is still visible today.

Wreck of Ozone today

More detailed information in the following links.

All photos from TROVE unless otherwise stated.

Bellarine Historical Society

Victorian Heritage Council

"Like pearls on velvet" - the Russian Irishman

John Field is a name that may be unfamiliar to many music lovers, but he deserves to be rediscovered and played more widely. He is credited with being the inventor of the nocturne, although it is Frederic Chopin who is now most closely associated with the form.

I happened to first hear one of Field’s nocturnes on a classical broadcast some years ago and was instantly drawn to the music. When I discovered the composer was an Irishman who had his greatest success in early 19th Century Russia, it seemed to fit perfectly with what I was listening to; the lyrical echo of an Irish soul combined with that Russian love of melancholy romanticism.

Like Mozart, Field was a child prodigy. He was born in Dublin in 1782, the son of a theatrical violinist. He received his early musical education from his grandfather who was an organist, and later from Tommaso Giordani.

At the age of ten, John Field made his first public appearance in Dublin. The family then moved to England spending time between London and Bath. John served an apprenticeship with Muzio Clementi while working part time as a piano salesman.

While still a boy, he appeared at Covent Garden and other London theatres. He first performed his own piano concerto at the King’s Theatre in 1799 to mixed reviews, although one observer considered him to be “one of the finest performers in this kingdom”.

Even after he had served his apprenticeship, John remained somewhat subservient to Clementi and travelled with him throughout Europe. After the pair had been in St. Petersburg during 1803, Clementi left but Field stayed behind and through patronage of one General Marklovsky, he finally came into his own. His music became fashionable in the music salons and he was in demand as a private teacher. In 1806 he made his debut in Moscow. His entry in the ODB says:

During this time Field developed the genre that he eventually called the nocturne and for which he became renowned throughout Europe. The nocturne is a one-movement piece characterized by a dreamy atmosphere but with no specific programme, fulfilling the Romantic belief that music can express emotions inexpressible by words.

There is an echo here of the future Franz Lizst in John Field at this time; adored by the ladies, dodging his way in and out of romantic escapades. His biographer offers us this description that with the dominating Clementi out of the way he emerges into the light as:

“…an amusingly absent-minded and thoroughly hedonistic Bohemian; often feckless, but full of charm, and always surrounded by a circle of admirers who felt for him something very like hero worship …”

He dressed well and had a fashionable address, with his own carriage, attended all the parties, smoked Havana cigars, imbibed too much champagne and indulged in frivolities and gossip. He was overly generous with money, spending it as soon as he earned it.

Field’s enjoyment of the social life conflicted with his composing. Like many a genius, he could be erratic, lazy and even undisciplined at times and then overcome with the urgent compulsion to create. A friend later recalled that he would always need one glass of alcohol to get him started, then he would abstain but write music in a frenzy all night and throw the sheets all over the room, to be collected by others to put into order. He’d then collapse at three or four in the morning, only to be revived later with endless cups of coffee. After a bout of creation, he could be in a dishevelled and low mood when people would be forced to tiptoe around and not disturb him.

John Field

In 1810, Field married Adelaide Victoria Percheron, born in Pondicherry, India, and daughter of the war commissioner of the French fleet. She was one of his Moscow pupils and had been his mistress since 1807. The marriage was not a success, she was flightly and both of them tended to excesses, idleness and were hopeless with money, and Field really needed a more restrained woman to counterbalance his temperament. They had a son, Adrien, in 1819, before separating. Adrien also became a pianist but alcoholism cut short his career.

Field had another son, Leon, with a Mlle Charpentier, who was born in 1815. Leon later became an opera singer and teacher known as Leo Ivanovich Leonov. His child, Field’s grandson was Alexander Charpentier, who became an opera singer and his child in turn, Elizabeth Alexandrovna Charpentier, was a ballerina in the Imperial Troupe and danced internationally with the famous Anna Pavlova.

Field's son, tenor Leo Leonov (1813/1815 - 1872)

Field's great-granddaughter, Imperial Troupe ballerina Elizabeth Charpentier (1888-1950)

In 1812, Field had been able to escape from Napoleon’s Grand Armee as it approached Moscow by rushing back to St Petersburg, but in 1821 returned to live in Moscow.

As a composer, Field often struggled with his alcoholism and ill health (cancer) as well as his erratic tendencies, so his repertoire is not as great as it might have been. After a trip to England in 1832 with his son Leon, where he gave concerts, had a last reunion with his mother and also sought out medical attention, he returned to Russia via various European cities, but his declining health meant his performances were not particularly successful and this heralded his future descent into obscurity.

John Field died in Moscow in 1837 and is buried in the Vedensky Cemetery.

Find a Grave

Memorial to Field in Golden Lane, Dublin

Field’s style of piano music has been overshadowed by his more famous successors such as Liszt and Chopin. This is what one of his students, the “father of Russian classical music”, Mikhail Glinka had to say of him:

I clearly remember his energetic and at the same time sophisticated and precise performance. It seemed to me that he did not even press the keys, his fingers simply fell on them like raindrops, glided like pearls on velvet. Neither I nor any true admirer of musical art can agree with Liszt, who once said that Field played sluggishly. Not. Field’s play has always been bold, erratic and diverse; he never mutilated art like a charlatan, as very popular pianists often do.

Many musicians have recorded John Field, but in my opinion the best interpretation is that by his fellow countryman, John O’Conor, who somehow captures that unique Irish/Russian essence the best.

Links

Ireland's greatest composer

Wikipedia