Family History Friday

17 steps to young Prince George of England!

Now, this is not a blood relationship, mind, only by marriage. After a conversation with a cousin today, I found this Daily Mail Australia article online claiming one of my convict cousins as a blood relative of  the Duchess of Cambridge. This is not strictly true.

Revealed: Kate’s Aussie convict relatives who can trace their roots to a lamb stealing labourer

  • Duchess can trace roots to farm labourer who was sent to Australia
  • He was found guilty of stealing three lambs and handed the sentence  Read more:

Samuel Hickmott is my  1st cousin 5 times removed: two of his sons married the Goldsmith sisters Sophia and Mary Ann. A brother to these sisters, John Goldsmith, is Kate’s direct ancestor. But, it is true that the children of these two sisters are cousins to young Prince George. The blood relationship does not travel backwards.

borrowed from the article

borrowed from the article

So, my first link to Royalty – by marriage.

Samuel’s aunt, Lydia Hickmott, is my 4th great grandmother. She married Edward Jeffery, 1790, in Brenchley, Kent and their son William is my great-great-great-grandfather.  William (1808-1860) and his wife came to Australia in 1838 as free settlers and later took up residence in the Orange district, New South Wales. In 1845, their daughter Harriet Jeffery (1829-1902) married my very own convict, Thomas Horner Stone (1809-1893). (Great Great grandparents)

It’s a small, small world!

[Added my chart later, because I’m sure it sounded like gobbledygook!]

My steps to the royal connection

My steps to the royal connection


Family History Friday

Family History Friday: My Nana and Papa.

na pa

Maisie and Les, 1961, at Uncle Kieth’s wedding in Mt Gambier.

Nana and Papa are my father’s parents.  They both died in 1963, when I was 8 years old. We lived outside of Balmoral (Victoria), at Englefield. I remember, when everyone came back to our place from Papa’s funeral, asking my dad if he had cried. One of my aunts shushed me and hustled me off. I think I asked because I’d been amazed to see him cry after Nana died. She died suddenly from a brain haemorrhage and then Papa stopped taking his blood pressure medication; he keeled over about six weeks later, while shoeing a horse. I guess he felt bad – mum told me a doctor at the Horsham hospital told Papa is was okay to go to the football (I think that is why they were in Horsham, in the first place) and she died unexpectedly before he came back. Mum had a photo like this enlarged, and hand tinted, and put in a lovely frame. We grew up with it in the house until dad gave it to one of his siblings.

nana pa arthurLeslie Joseph Cyril PARISH was born 1905, in Mt Gambier, South Australia. Mavis (Maisie) Olive Crute was born 1908 in Stawell, Victoria. Les and Maisie married 19th January 1928, at Horsham. Their first child was born late December (the babe in the photo above). Les and Maisie had seven children, with my dad being the third child, and the second son.

nana pa oldOur PARISH family line traces back to Smith Parish, baptised in Caldecote, Essex, Cambridgeshire, England, 1792, the bastard child of Sarah Parish. Maisie’s line goes back to Aspley Guise, Bedfordshire, England, to William White CRUTE, baptised 1796. One of my aunts did the research on dad’s family, long before I was remotely interested.

I remember Nana and papa with love: they were such generous, loving people. I had a large wart on the palm of one hand, and Papa purchased it from me for a penny. It vanished. Nana used to make me dry dishes, and I hated it. I’m not sure if I meant to drop a plate once, or if it was an accident, but I remember thinking Ha! she won’t make me dry again. No such luck. She made me clean it up and then I had to finish the rest of the drying on my own for ages, every night, after that.nana2

Nana had a couple of sayings I loved. I’m sure I cracked up in giggles every time she said same. I smile, just recalling.

If I asked her what was for tea: it was always duck under the table. And if I asked her what she was knitting (she always seemed to be knitting): a wigwam for a goose’s bridle.

I’ve got to track down Papa’s obituary notice and add it here. He trained trotters, and drove them. I suppose he part-owned one or two, as well.

It’s not hard to see where my nose comes from. And Nana’s nose came from her mother.   ❤


Horsham Cemetery. R.I.P.

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, Family History Friday

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Harvest Season

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Earth or the Harvest Season

This is my dad during hay carting season – note the reinforcement patches mum has sewn on the fronts of his trousers to protect him from grass-seeds and chafing.  Photo taken the very late 1950s.
dad cookingThis photo is also a very belated Family History Friday Post.

Dad is heating up a frypan over a small fire he has made in a roadside culvert. He was a great one for improvisation. I’m thinking that is a sauce bottle resting on top of the culvert, not a bottle of beer. It is probably the lunch time break, or even a late breakfast if the men began work at dawn to beat the heat.

In the background, on the other side of the road, is a paddock gleaming in the light. This could be a wheat or oat crop waiting to be harvested. Perhaps it is a paddock dotted with hay bales ready for being tossed on a truck by a gang of labourers.

cees fun photo challenge