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An Ancient Memoriam
In memoriam By GCJ Lithgow Mercury Friday July 24 1908 I have written many In memoriams in my time, but none has been so difficult to approach as the reminiscent yarn about my dear old friend "Jemmy" McCloy. It was but a few weeks ago that I saw him at his place of business in Queens Place (Sydney) looking as hale, strong and hearty as ever, despite his snowy head – as white as my own by the bye – and now he lies peacefully sleeping "by the sad sea waves" out there at Waverly where we buried him on Tuesday afternoon. Yes, quite a crowd of us – relatives, old friends, bowling associates and fellow craftsmen from Queens Place – gathered by the open pit dug in the sand ready to receive the body of him we knew an loved so well – for Jemmy was one of those sociable, sunny natures that command love and confidence and what matters the clean cutting breeze, and the salt mist from the ocean, or the drizzling rain? We were there to pay our last earthly tribute to our old friend whose personality and many good qualities will, I trust be long remembered by those of a younger generation; while those of us who were his contemporaries in the "good old days" will carry with us to the grave loving recollections of him. When I last saw James McCloy three weeks ago, he seemed to me good for another twenty years and that he would most likely, see me tucked away under the sod, comfortably Alas! It is the other way about; the older and weaker man is left – left to mourn the loss of a good friend of close on fifty years standing. We never know what may happen; there are accidents and sudden death as well as disease and long drawn out infirmities; and my old friend succumbed to the first, a miscalculation, a moments forgetfulness and there you are: a strong man lies at death’s door: he is born home unconscious, paralysed – and life ebbs slowly away – for the grim old reaper came just about twenty four hours after the fall. And mercifully, perhaps, the victim never knew what had happened. A shock and then chaos? As a friend of fifty years I may venture to say something of the boom times in Sofala, when I first knew James McCloy – that was at the latter end of 59, just after the disastrous rush to the Fitzroy (Canoona). I may however, first state that the McCloys came to New South Wales in 1848 – Jemmy having been born in Glasgow in the year ’42 and other members of the family at Stirling. About the year 1852, Stewart McCloy his wife and family settled at Sofala where they lived until the old people died, and the younger members of the family married and removed to other parts. Two (Mrs Hogsflesh and Mrs Brooks (Janet) were married when I was in Sofala about 1860, I think – and both are now dead, the former in the early 60’s and Mrs Brooks a few years ago. Well do I remember the clan McCloy working on Mundy Point; they all resided in Sofala, but walked to their claim every morning, almost inevitably followed by quite a pack of dogs, for they were all dog fanciers. First there was old Stewart, his sons Jem and Will; sons in law Alf Hogsflesh and Charlie Brooks and Monteith, a brother in law. But later, on Jemmy, Charlie and I worked together in the Tunnel Company’s big claim in Sofala Reach, and I may say I was a constant visitor at one or other of their houses and old hands will remember Hogsflesh’s pretty little cottage in the main street with its profusion of flowers and fruit. Alf was a Richmond man and was the first to grow peaches on the Turon. In those days, Jemmy and I were almost inseparable. We worked together often on the night shift, when our shovel handles would freeze during smoko! And in our spare time dancing, boxing, billiards and ????? was an expert in all as also in other sports including cricket Jem was the best amateur boxer in the township and could hold his own with the best of the professionals, the same with billiards and but few could touch him, and later on at Mitchell’s Creek, he Sam Armour, Bob Drew and I were about the best. It was at Mitchells Creek that Jem McCloy met his fate, and indeed I met mine. The late Samuel Taylor of the Limekilns opened the first pub at the Creek, which however, was kept later on by Sam Armour ("young Sam" for old Mr Armour was then alive and both were old Turonites) his son in law. It was here that Jem met his future wife Sarah Taylor, and they were married at Sofala in the early part of ’65, and at the same time Bella Armour (young Sam’s sister) gave herself away to Eb. Davis, both well known in later years at the Half Way House, on the Carcoar Road, another sister of Sam Armour’s was the late Mrs Payett (some of the family are at Sunny Corner today), yet another is Mrs Attewell, also of Sunny Corner and Mrs Drew is another. So it is seen that the Taylors, Armours and McCloys form quite a large connection. I left the Creek in ‘ 64, and was married in ’66, and during these years my old friend was mining several localities and finally settled down in Sydney at Mr Taylor’s (his father-in- law) brush making establishment in York Street which he had purchased from McMahon the founder of the business. Now it was never any trouble to Jem McCloy to learn any sort of handicraft, he was expert in the use of tools, and generally clever in most things. Thus he soon became an expert in his new calling and from that day to the day of the sad accident which caused his death, James McCloy stuck to the game, first in York St and then in Queens Place, where the business of Samuel Taylor and S Taylor & Co has been carried on for over forty years. When Mr Samuel Taylor died a few years ago – his sons Samuel and Benjamin having predeceased him – my old friend, and his brother in law Mr S.R. Lorking took charge of the business and as executors managed it for the surviving members of the Taylor family. The late Mr McCloy resided at Canterbury where the late Mr S Taylor has considerable property, and it was at Canterbury railway station (close by his home) where the accident which deprived him of his life occurred. Of the McCloy’s who went to Sofala only one survives, William, the youngest, whom many will remember as "mine Host" of the old Globe Inn, now kept by Mrs Hyland though under another sign. William McCloy married the daughter of another Sofala identity, Ellen, the second daughter of the late Stephen Swain who I am sure is not forgotten. It is wonderful how all these old families get linked together and then dispersed. There is Steve Swain at Peak Hill (son of the "old Steve" of my days) and, there are two daughters in Sydney. William McCloy has a daughter in Marburg (Q) and James McCloy’s only child is Mrs Hudson, wife of Mr George Inglis Hudson the well known proprietor of the famous Eumenthol Jujubes, now of Queens Place, but formerly of Ipswich (Q). It can be understood by the forgoing that there was a large gathering at the graveside of my old friend on Tuesday afternoon, 11th inst. There were McCloy’s, Hudsons, Lorkings, Joyces, Armours, and Greens, all relatives, the Tobins (Limekilns) Poyetts and Drews not being able to attend, probably on account of the distance. Then there were Canterbury aldermen, Marrickville and Petersham bowlers, and the employees of S Taylor & Co besides old friends. Only a few yards from my old chum’s grave rises the graceful marble monument of Henry Kendall, and close by, again, is the grave of a dear little grandchild, removed from Ipswich last year, whose grave I saw when visiting Queensland two years ago. And just as I am closing, this, I see another old Turonite has "shuffled off this mortal coil" in the person of Ned Pallet – and Ned and Jem McCloy were also my great friends McCloy died July 12 and Pallett on the 11th, and he too I see is buried at Waverly, which by the look of it is a favorite place of sepulture. Among his many accomplishments James McCloy was a very sweet singer. His singing was tuneful soft and low; and his songs sung at those big entertainments given by the Sofala Ministrels, in aid of Sofala Hospital, nearly half a century ago will be remembered by old hands. His favourites were "The Cottage by the Sad Sea", "Waves", " The Old Water Mill". "Belle Brando", "Rosalie", "The Prairie Flower", "My Old Kentucky Home", "Good Night", "Hard Times Come Again No More", "The Haze Bull", "She Never Blamed Him, Never" and but few of them are sung today, if even known. But where are the minstrels today .. Where? They were ……..Charters, Wall Hall, Jem McCloy, Rick Paynter, Alf Robinson and Jem ….. are dead, and the only one in the land of the living today, I think, is Wall Hall, and he, poor fellow is lying on his beam ends at his home at Rylstone, having been kicked by a horse. Then there were the Creek Minstrels and again McCloy was among them as also Bill Charters. With them too, was also Tom Everitt, who lies snug in Jamberoo Cemetery, having been killed at Hillend. And so they have gone, one by one, and Jemmy and I used to compare notes and tick them off as they disappeared. Of the older men there were Torpey, Wild, and Hyde of the old Engine Company Erskine Flat, the two Eyres of the Tunnet party ???, one lying at Ipswich (Q) the other in Sofala Church yard, brave old Joh; Mongan and his friend Johnny Williams, Bab Hayes, JohnTilling, ( ? Milling) Frank Wright (ex MP and minister of the Crown), buried at Rookwood, old Ned Bridges ("Long Ned") killed at Mitchells Creek. Sam Armour lies at Rookwood and so, alas! does Alf Robinson. Where they buried Old Steve Swain I don’t know, neither do I know the resting places of Jemmy Forsyth or Bab Johnstone – old mates on the Turon, but in their later years influential men of business in Sydney. Many I have lost the run of for years; and don’t know whether they are living or dead; though the other day I saw Jem Shervey ?? of Capertee, whom I knew at Erskine’s Flat and Mitchells Creek, had gone over to the great majority, his two brothers George and Dane, having predeceased him years ago. All three were well known on the Mudgee road, while a sister, Mrs Leighton is, I think, still living at Running Stream. But the old names crowd in when one’s memory, and there are so many of them that I may not refer to them all, though I may remark that of the number I knew on the Turon in the fifites and sixties, I have met very few since. I left Sofala in ’63. One or two at Gulgong, a few in Sydney and a stray one in Queensland, Most of them are gathered in "no doubt, and a few hours a day spent among those "pages of history writ on stone, which crowd our metropolitan burial grounds, would probably reveal their present diggings: Anyhow I know where lies the body of my old Turon chum, James McCloy, and when I visit his grave out there facing the rising sun as he lifts his golden arc over the distant blue line of ocean, I can say with truth:- "Here was a man I loved;
Submitted by Elizabeth McCloy (Australia) dec' 2000
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