Private Walter Rowland Marsh, 10th Battalion, AIF

My mother Joan spoke about her uncle Wally as a frail man who suffered ‘shell-shock’ after the first world war. No letters from Wally have survived and his war experiences were not discussed, however, some understanding of the place war service had in his life is possible.

A proud new recruit.
Ready to serve his State and his country.

Photos of a Wally in uniform prior to his embarkation show him as bright and confident, while those from the 1920s show a sombre though well-dressed man. ‘Shell-shock’ was his niece’s summary of how the experience changed him. It was a commonly used phrase of ‘consolation and legitimation’ as families tried to make some sense of the changes they saw in loved ones.

Serious and dapper: Wally about 1925, surrounded by Dorrie his youngest sister (left)
 sister-in-law Evelyn, sister Phil (seated) and nieces Margaret and Joan.

Walter was born in 1893 and when he joined the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) in 1915, he was the fifth of the 8 surviving children of English migrants Henry and MaryMarsh and the middle boy, between Fred born in 1891 and Frank born in 1896.

Wally grew up in Adelaide where his father had a candle factory and made a comfortable life for his family. His eldest brother Henry died after an epileptic seizure while on his way to the factory in 1899. The death had a profound effect; three of Wally’s sisters became nurses and his father’s interest in business waned. Henry senior moved to remote Coomandook to take up wheat farming, with misplaced idealism, but Wally stayed on as a clerk in the factory.

The farm soil was poor and after the first-year productivity sank. Fred and Wally joined the farm in 1908 and Frank in 1911. Soon after, Fred left for India. Wally was ‘not naturally suited to outdoor or manual labour’ according to his brother Frank, but presumably felt some obligation to help his parents.

After war was declared, Fred joined the Indian Army. Wally’s sister Elsie joined the 2nd Australian General Hospital, Nursing Staff and in December 1914 embarked for Egypt while he was helping complete the wheat harvest.

In April and May 1915, South Australian papers carried dozens of stories of Gallipoli and the prominent role of the State-based 10^th battalion. Wally’s mother had encouraged Fred to leave the unproductive farm and later would say the same thing to Frank so may have had a similar conversation with Wally.

Wally signed up on 27 May 1915 and was assigned to the 8^th reinforcements for the 10^th Battalion. Another sister Philippa (Phil) signed up in July and was assigned to the 3rd Australian General Hospital and Reinforcements embarking for Lemnos, a Greek island and a staging point for Gallipoli, in August. A month later, Wally also embarked for Lemnos and in October he was ‘taken on strength’ with the 10th Battalion after their evacuation to Lemnos in November 1915. He was now part of a legendary battalion and shared something of the experience with Phil.

Wally would be co-located twice more in similar locations to his sisters, in Egypt and France, and while this would have given them at least some broadly shared memories there is no direct evidence of their meeting.

Whatever excitement Wally felt was jolted after he landed in Alexandria Egypt in late December. He was hospitalised at the No 2 Australian General Hospital in the Ghezireh Palace in Cairo with ‘extreme’ jaundice but ‘cured’ by 16 January. He was admitted to the Red Cross Convalescent Hospital, in Montazah Palace, Alexandria for a week in March with the same complaint.

Jaundice first broke out in 1915 among troops in Egypt, spreading rapidly to Gallipoli and Lemnos and more prevalent amongst men who had not been exposed to it in their youth.

After Gallipoli, most of the AIF was sent to the war’s main theatre, the Western Front in France and Belgium. The 10^th Battalion landed in Marseilles, arriving in Godewaersvelde, by train on 5 April 1916 and commenced regular training.

On 19 May the Battalion’s billets were under ‘heavy bombardment’ with three killed and seven wounded. It was Wally’s first experience of being near death on the battlefield. The Battalion Diary for May notes the continuing wet, regular skirmishes and one further death.  

Wally’s war experience took a more dramatic turn with his participation in the worst fighting of the war in the Battle for Pozières in July 1916. The Battalion suffered 58 deaths, 264 wounded and another 46 missing. 

Wally survived without physical injuries but memories of the deaths of many comrades and visions of once green fields and a busy town turned to lifeless quagmires must have filled his later dreams.

No place for a clerk. The main street of Pozieres, December 1916.
The town was destroyed in the fighting to save it.

The battalion was reorganised in August, a necessity after the loss of so many men, followed by regular training and successful attacks. In October 10 men were killed and another 70 wounded.

The harsh trench environment brought health risks which developed into large-scale medical problems. One was ‘trench foot’, an infection and swelling of feet exposed to long periods of cold dampness, sometimes leading to amputation.

In early November the Battalion undertook road making, coped with extensive mud and ‘trenches in [a] shocking state’. On 11 November, 150 were listed as ‘wounded’ mostly with foot trouble. Wally was admitted to the field hospital on 10 November and on the 28^th arrived at the Standing Hospital, Amiens, diagnosed with ‘trench feet’. On 2 December 1916, he embarked at Calais and was admitted to the 3^rd Australian General Hospital, Brighton, England, where his sister Phil had been relocated, for further treatment.

Australian ambulance men at Bernafay, France, carrying their comrades
suffering from trench feet to transport which will take them to hospital.

Wally was granted leave from 8-23 January 1917, perhaps spent with Phil, returning to hospital on 27 January where he presumably remained until 23 March when he joined the new 70th Battalion in Wareham remaining with them until it was disbanded in September then re-joined the 10^th Battalion in France mid-October.

On 10 February 1918 he was diagnosed with a highly contagious whitlow infection in the forefinger of his right hand presumably affecting his ability to shoot. He went to the ship hospital Boulogne and after convalesce re-joined the unit on 26 April.

From May to July the Unit Diary shows more detailed planning, training, regular church parades, successes in battle and low casualties. On 23 August, during a major advance at Bray Sur-Somme, Wally suffered a gunshot wound to the right forearm. The following day he was invalided to the General Hospital at Havre and two weeks later to the Sutton Veny Hospital in Wiltshire, taking leave from 25 September to 9 October. He re-joined the 10^th on 29 November 1918 where he would wait until his return to Australia. Several courses of study were offered at this time (including bookkeeping, dairy farming, French and wheat farming) and it is likely that he took part in some - though probably not wheat farming.

He returned to England and on 24 April boarded the Armagh for Australia. His only formal discipline occurred on this journey home when he was fined two weeks’ pay for failing to ‘attend the Guard Mounting’ in Durban on 3 May, ‘after being duly warned.’ Another soldier charged with the same offence on the same day was Private R. W. Ingleton also of the 10th Battalion. Perhaps the two were looking forward to a day in Durban together. He disembarked in Adelaide on 16 May and was discharged on 8 July 1919.

By the time the war ended the ‘fighting 10^th’ had taken a prominent part in the worst of the fighting at Gallipoli and Pozières, both iconic locations, and was the most decorated of the South Australian Units. It was something to be proud of.

It is no surprise that Wally did not apply for farming land through the Soldier Settlement Scheme; he had probably had enough of the outdoors.

In 1925 he married Catherine Gladys Saunders in a small ceremony at the Congregational Manse in Alberton, Port Adelaide. The two had had a long, quiet, apparently isolated and childless marriage. Wally and his wife visited Fred in India in 1926 with his sister Phil who later left him $600 in her will, suggesting that their shared experience strengthened their relationship and the same time as it distanced them both from the rest of their family.

Wally lived in the same house from his marriage until his death. Through that half-century, he worked as a ‘clerk’, the trade he learned in his father’s factory.

Adelaide Advertiser, 19 June 1973.

Wally died ‘suddenly’ on 17 June 1973 a month after his 80^th birthday and was buried in a private ceremony the following day. His life had been defined, but personally diminished, by his membership of the 10^th battalion.

References:

if you'd like a PDF of the text of this article with references included, please send me an email.

Further reading,,,

To read about the life of Walter's parents, Henry and Mary Marsh, please look at the first of three articles Henry and Mary Marsh: Melbourne pioneers.

DNA tests: connecting cousins

Genealogical DNA testing can often provide new leads, help to get around ‘brick walls’ which are blocking the road to tracking your ancestry, and even find unknown cousins.

I’ve found it very useful in tracking my own family history and it will probably help you in your quest too.

I also hope it will help a collective effort to find out the origin and present family links to Australia’s first documented Chinese migrant Mak Sai Pang.  See: The DNA search for ancestors of 麥世鹏.

There are three types of DNA tests for family history:

• Y-DNA Tests - Discover your heritage on your father's line. This is the one of for Mak males who might want to join the Mak project.
• mtDNA Tests - Discover your heritage on your mother's line.
• Family Finder Test - Family Finder is an autosomal DNA test that automatically finds your relatives within 5 generations. It works by comparing your DNA to the DNA of other users in the massive FTDNA database. Prepare for some surprises with this one.

Only one company provides all three - FamilyTreeDNA.

Not sure what test is best for you?

Post a question below in the comments area and I’ll try to help.

A Melbourne Masonic mystery part 2: The ‘uninvited’ Freemasons

This part of the story describes the Freemasons of Melbourne before they knew they had no place in the foundation stone ceremony for the University of Melbourne.

La Trobe and Freemasons

La Trobe was not a Freemason, but he was certainly a friend of the Masonic bodies and the Churches which he saw as civilising forces. The Freemasons formal welcome to La Trobe’s replacement, Sir Charles Hotham, includes the following statement:

‘… La Trobe, however was pleased on several occasions to express himself very favourably disposed towards our body, and has more than once honoured us by his presence at such festivities as may be partaken by those who are strangers to our Order.’

Freemasons and the Prince’s Bridge

Foundation stone laying events were popular and were opportunities for everyone to dress in whatever organisational garments they possessed and carry any tools of trade. In 1854, the biggest events in living memory were for the Prince’s Bridge foundation stone in 1846 and its subsequent opening in 1850. This is not the bridge we know today; this was for a stone structure to replace a timber bridge.

Edmund Finn,
Courtesy State Library of Victoria.

Catholic Irish-born journalist Edmund Finn writing as Garryowen in The chronicles of early Melbourne, 1835 to 1852 described the event.

The need for a permanent bridge compelled the Government of New South Wales to commit funds. The bridge would be begun on the same day and with the same ceremony as the much-needed Melbourne Hospital. After the Masonic Brotherhood and other Societies settled, proceedings began with Rev. A. C. Thomson, Masonic Chaplain, offering a prayer, after which he delivered the following invocation:

‘May the great Architect of the Universe permit this work to be carried on successfully to its completion…’ The Masonic response came from the crowd: ‘So Mote it be.’

The stone was then partly lowered, and Brother Frederick Lord Clay, as ‘Junior Worshipful Master’, having received a bottle containing various coins of the realm from His Honor the Superintendent deposited it in the stone, and also a brass plate, the inscription on which was read by Brother John Stephen (1798–1854), as Director of Ceremonies.

THE FOUNDATION STONE

Of

This Bridge Over the Yarra Yarra River, at Melbourne,

Was Laid on the 20th Day of March, A.D. 1846,

By

His HONOUR CHARLES JOSEPH LATROBE,

Assisted by

The Ancient and Honorable Fraternity of Freemasons,

…

The silver trowel of the Australia Felix Lodge was handed by ‘Senior Worshipful Master’ A. H. Hart to His Honor, who spread the mortar, after which some verses of a psalm were sung. The corn was then scattered, some oil and wine poured on the stone, and another invocation was offered by the Chaplain followed by ‘So Mote it be.’

Three cheers were given for the Queen and three for La Trobe. The National Anthem was then ‘chanted’ by all present, and everyone moved on to the foundation of the Hospital.

Freemasons acted as officiating assistants and formal payers were read by the Masonic Chaplain, but Foresters, Druids and Oddfellows also paraded as was common practice. There were no angry letters to the press afterwards asking how the Freemasons came to be so favoured. Broad customary practice was probably the basis of the ritual at such events – and this is an area worth further research.

Finn’s account concludes with a reference to the formal opening on 15 November 1850 as the ‘grandest processional display witnessed in the colony’. The celebrations joined three events, the opening of the Bridge and the Hospital, and separation from New South Wales.

The Melbourne Daily News recorded the various community bodies and their banners at the Bridge. The procession having arrived at the crown of the centre of the bridge, the Australia Felix Lodge of Freemasons formed a lane through which the procession passed, until the arrival of La Trobe when the cavalcade halted. John Stephen as senior Past Master of the Lodge addressed His Honor thanking him for inviting Freemasons to officiate at the completion of ‘a great national monument’. After wishing His Honor long life and happiness, he called for three cheers for La Trobe, ‘which were but faintly given’.

Can you spot the 'hat and feathers'? Opening of the Prince's Bridge, Courtesy State Library of Victoria.

The Argus version consistently refers to La Trobe as ‘the hat and feathers.’ Their reporter also had difficulty hearing what La Trobe said, though his hearing improved when there was an opportunity to make an uncomplimentary comment.

The Freemasons had an organising role for the procession, but there were no Masonic rituals performed and no formal prayers offered. La Trobe continued south across the Bridge and made his famous formal announcement under the Separation Tree at 10.30 a.m. Hat and feathers in place.

Victoria separates.

Changing plans

In 1853, La Trobe made plans to return to England and his wife, Sophie, left before him. The foundation stone events at the University and the Library would have been an appropriate way to conclude his service in Melbourne.

On his arrival in Melbourne La Trobe had declared, 'It is not by individual aggrandisement, by the possession of numerous flocks or herds, or by costly acres, that the people shall secure for the country enduring prosperity and happiness but by the acquisition and maintenance of sound religious and moral institutions without which no country can become truly great.’ The University and Library were clearly consistent with this philosophy.

On 27 April 1854, La Trobe was reading the Morning Post of 8 February which had just arrived from England. He was stunned to see the death notice for Sophie. The foundation stone ceremony had already been postponed to 1 May and had now to be postponed again with the new Governor to officiate.

Morning Post, Wednesday 8 February 1854.

The Freemasons of Melbourne had also undergone some trauma. The Gold Rush enticed many to abandon the city to try their luck. Melbourne lodges lost members, though this was a gain to the lodges of Bendigo and Ballarat.

Robert Levick writes to Barry

The next day, the four Masters of Melbourne’s lodges wrote to Barry through Robert Levick W.M. of the Australia Felix Lodge 697 (English Constitution).

There is no record of discussion about this in the Australia Felix minutes and it is likely that the Masters met up informally. The other Masters involved were M. Hall Lodge of Australiana No 773 (English Constitution), Henry T. Shaw, Lodge of Australasian Kilwinning 337 (Scottish Constitution) and J. Elliott, Lodge of Hiram No 349 (Irish Constitution).

Although somewhat forgotten now, in his day, Levick was a widely respected and energetic Freemason much loved for his efforts to develop Freemasonry. In December 1855 he was presented with a silver snuffbox engraved '… in testimony of the valuable services rendered to his younger brethren as their masonic instructor during the years 1854 and 1855.’ 

Robert Levick was much-admired in his day.

There is an interesting summary of Freemasonry in Melbourne written in 1858 by an ‘eminent member of the Craft’. The ‘clue’ to his identity may be a negative one. A person of significance not mentioned is Thomas McCombie, an omission perhaps explained by modesty rather than ignorance. The four pages are in the Handbook to Australasia written and published by William Fairfax – a cousin of the more famous John. It highlights a positive consequence of the Gold Rush.

‘After the discovery of gold in 1851, an immense influx of Europeans arrived in the colony, and amongst them several brethren of great masonic experience, fully conversant with the various rituals and qualified to carry on the work of Freemasonry according to the ancient usages, customs, and land-marks of the order. Some of these brethren greatly accelerated the progress of Freemasonry in Victoria, and still continue to exercise a marked influence over it. Amongst these may be mentioned ... Br. Robert Levick [who was] ... established in 1854, and has successfully continued to the present a lodge of instruction, which has been of inestimable advantage to the craft.’

Levick died in 1873 ‘after a long and severe illness … an old colonist, and past master and founder of many Masonic lodges in Melbourne.’ His grave remains unmarked, but in his day, he made a significant contribution to Freemasonry.

The hat and feathers are just ahead of the second flag.

The concluding part of the story looks at why Hiram might have imagined he’d been ‘uninvited’ and suggests what might have really been going on.

A Melbourne Masonic mystery part 1: The University Chancellor

The Masonic Library, Archive and Museum in Melbourne together are full of historical gold. Finding the means to preserve and admire these treasures will benefit both the Craft and the public.

1854

Amid the excitement and disorder of the Victorian gold rush, Melbourne's elite created ‘the University.’

The foundation stone was laid on Monday 3 July 1854 by the recently arrived Lieutenant-Governor Charles Hotham with Justice Redmond Barry, resplendent in his immaculate chancellerian robes – and silk stockings, as master of ceremonies.

Professor Richard Selleck in his book The Shop, says the ceremony began with a procession from the city to the muddy paddock where the University was to be built. It was intended, he imagined, to follow a familiar pattern with a prominent role for Freemasons.

Selleck’s assumption about the Freemasons was reasonable, but was it correct?

Soon after the ceremony, a Freemason calling himself ‘Hiram’ wrote to the Argus, the most read paper in the city, complaining that the Freemasons had in effect been uninvited. He asserted that this would not have happened if La Trobe had been Lieutenant-Governor and he wanted an explanation.

I came across this controversy in preparing a review of Professor John Barnes’ 2017 book, La Trobe: traveller, writer, governor.  I don’t think anyone noticed it before. So, was Selleck correct or Hiram? The answer turns to be neither, but the event did signal some kind of change. The story suggests that the Masonic presence in Melbourne’s early history has been somewhat neglected and that further research, building on Peter Thornton’s comprehensive work (A Century of Union: The United Grand Lodge of Victoria and The History of Freemasonry in Victoria) can yield a better understanding of both Melbourne and Freemasonry in that period.

Redmond Barry as Chancellor, 1878.
Courtesy of the State Library of Victoria.

Redmond Barry

Redmond Barry is famous for sentencing Ned to the gallows, but Ned hadn’t been born in July 1854. He was an Irish aristocrat whose ancestors became Protestants in the time of Cromwell. Their English allegiance was central to their identity but they were Irish nonetheless. They were Conservative and ‘high Tory’ in their politics and ‘wedded to the property interests of the landed gentry.’ The Barrys played a leading role in local Freemasonry.

In contrast with the present, Freemasonry in this period should not be regarded only as being a prominent fraternal organisation. In the words of R A Berman in The Architects of Eighteenth-Century English Freemasonry, 1720 – 1740,  ‘It should also be considered as a force that helped to shape the structure and development of the social, economic and political evolution that was then in progress.’

Barry was born in 1813 in County Cork, graduated from Trinity College Dublin in 1837 and was admitted to the Irish Bar. He emigrated to Australia, landing in Sydney, then settling in Melbourne in 1839, establishing a practice in the minor courts. He became the Standing Council for Aborigines in 1841 advocating that they be tried before a jury which included Aboriginal people; an approach consistent with the values of 18^th Century Freemasons. He was Melbourne’s first solicitor-general in 1851 then elevated to the Supreme Court of Victoria in 1852. He was involved in almost every social, cultural and philanthropic activity in Victoria at the time of his death in 1880.

Barry was a prime founder of the University and Public Library placing his personal stamp on both. There would be no contemporary fiction in the Library but working men could come and freely learn and there would be no religious test at the University for the all-male students.

Professors could not be in holy orders nor could they lecture on religious topics - anywhere. La Trobe supported the institution and provided funding for it, wishing to avoid the interdenominational rivalry which plagued the University of Sydney.

Barry became a Freemason in Dublin. In Melbourne, he affiliated with Australia Felix Lodge of Hiram No 349 in the Irish Constitution (later No 4 in the Victorian Constitution) on 30 April 1847 (8 years after his arrival) remaining a quiet member.

Barry’s reputation has undergone a revision, highlighted by the current University of Melbourne Chancellor, Allan Myers AC QC who presented the 2016 Redmond Barry Lecture. To quote Myers, ‘I have called Barry cruel, pessimistic, fearful, hypocritical, vain and impetuous. Barry’s social views and political philosophies have little, if any, importance for Australian society in 2016. But an energetic devotion to the advancement of institutions which promote education, scientific knowledge and access to the arts is as important today as it was 150 years ago.’

We can both acknowledge his weaknesses and celebrate his achievements.

Melbourne in about 1854 via Wikimedia.

Part 2 will describe something of the role of Freemasonry in early Melbourne and the changing plans for the University’s foundation stone laying ceremony.

A Melbourne foundation-stone mystery

I recently had the enjoyable opportunity to make a presentation to the Victorian Lodge of Research. The presentation was titled A Melbourne masonic mystery: The University Chancellor, the uninvited Freemasons and the foundation stone…

I began by pointing to the value of the local Masonic Library, Archive and Museum. It is full of historical gold. It's a tremendous resource which can provide unique insights into Victoria's history - especially its social history and its family history.

The story itself is set in Melbourne 1854 - 165 years ago to the day.  

Amid the excitement and disorder of the Victorian gold rush, Melbourne's elite created ‘the University.’ Its foundation stone was laid on Monday 3 July 1854 by the newly arrived Lieutenant-Governor, Charles Hotham. The master of ceremonies was Justice Redmond Barry, resplendent in his immaculate chancellerian robes – and silk stockings.

Sir Redmond Barry as Chancellor, later in life.
Picture via Wikipedia.

Professor Richard Selleck in The Shop, says the ceremony began with a procession from the city to the muddy paddock north of the city where the University was to emerge. It was intended, he imagined, to follow a familiar pattern with a prominent role for Freemasons.   

Soon after the ceremony, ‘Hiram’ wrote to the Argus, the most read paper in the city. He complained that the Freemasons had in effect been uninvited. He asserted that this would not have happened if La Trobe had been Lieutenant-Governor. He wanted an explanation.

I had come across this controversy in preparing a review of Professor John Barnes’ book, La Trobe: traveller, writer, governor. I didn’t think anyone noticed the issue before and thought it was worth investigating. So, was Selleck correct or Hiram? The answer turned out to be neither, though Hiram was nearer the mark. And the event did signal some kind of change.

The case also illustrates that further research, building on the work of Victorian Masonic historian Peter Thornton, can still yield improved understandings of both Melbourne, its people and Freemasonry in that period. Thornton, who died in 2015, may well have read everything in the Archives and his books are a great pointer to what's there. However, finding those references now is a little harder.

Barry was a prime founder of the University placing his personal stamp on it. There would be no religious test at the University for the all-male students. Professors could not be in holy orders nor could they lecture on religious topics - anywhere. La Trobe supported the institution and provided funding for it.

As many Melbourne Freemasons know, Barry became a Freemason in Dublin. In Melbourne, he affiliated with Australia Felix Lodge of Hiram in the Irish Constitution when it began in April 1847, eight years after his arrival. He remained a quiet member.

La Trobe was not a Freemason, but he was certainly a friend of the Masonic bodies, the Churches and Barry himself. He saw them all as civilising forces.

Strangely, the story of the University’s foundation stone relies on understanding what happened for the foundation stone ceremony of the first Prince’s Bridge and 1846 and the subsequent celebrations when it was opened in 1850.  

But the solution to the conundrum needed more. It needed a review of some forgotten histories and digging in the archives. Two archives actually - The University of Melbourne and the Freemasons. The search uncovered the existence of correspondence between Barry and the masters of Melbourne’s four lodges in 1854 channelled though Robert Levick the now somewhat forgotten Masonic educator of that early period.

But, as is often the case, resolving one mystery left unanswered at least one more. 

The presentation will appear as a series here over the next few months and will also (with pictures and references) be included in the Lodge’s annual Transactions, now in its 32nd year.

The first Prince's Bridge as it looked in 1870, also later in its life. How is this structure relevant to the University foundation stone?  Courtesy Museums Victoria.

A Melbourne Masonic mystery part 1: The University Chancellor