To my astonishment—and this seems so right, so neat, and so symmetrical—Uncle Roy’s wedding in 1920 to Aunt Maida brought the surviving Pearsons of Kilmany Park into direct alliance with the remarkable Dowling family of Tasmania. As we have seen, Maida Frances Blood Dowling was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Aubin Dowling, formerly of Talgai West in the Darling Downs of southern Queensland. She was therefore the granddaughter of John Leonard Dowling, grazier of Ellerslie, Fairfield, and his wife, Cecilia Ann (1821–1905), the daughter of Major Thomas Daunt Lord (1783–1865). John Leonard Dowling was, in turn, the son of the Reverend Henry Dowling (1780–1869), and Elizabeth, née Drake (1782–1853), whose mother Susanna, Mrs. Drake of Gloucester was intimate with Selena, Countess of Huntingdon, the revivalist, Methodist luminary, confidante of John and Charles Wesley, and sex kitten. The Reverend Henry Dowling was not only a famous Vandiemonian divine, whose chapel stood for many years in York Street, Launceston, and who performed innumerable baptisms in freezing rivers all over Tasmania, but he was also the father of Robert Hawker Dowling (1827–1886), the distinguished Tasmanian portrait painter, whose wonderful 1856 Mrs. Adolphus Sceales with Black Jimmie on Merrang Station (above) now hangs prominently in the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra. In other words, the painter Robert Dowling was Aunt Maida’s great-uncle, though she never knew him. Her paternal grandmother, however, Cecilia Ann, Mrs. John Leonard Dowling, lived to the very great age of eighty-four, and died on October 19, 1905, at her residence St. Leonard’s (naturally) in Launceston. It is possible that Aunt Maida did meet Grannie Dowling once or twice, although the journey from Brisbane to Devonport (and vice versa) was long and difficult; indeed old Mrs. Dowling may well have been disinclined to attempt long sea voyages because in 1857 her sister-in-law (her husband’s sister) Hannah Maria Waller was, together with Mr. Waller and all six of their children, drowned horribly in the wreck of the Dunbar at Sydney Heads. Anyway, Grandmother Dowling’s connection to Van Diemen’s Land was almost as long as it was possible to be. She was the daughter of Major Thomas Daunt Lord, and his bride Susan Greenslade of the Bahamas. Major and Mrs. Lord were married in 1810 at Nassau, when Major Lord was serving in the second West India Regiment. In the early 1820s he became embroiled in the so-called Bradley–Arthur wrongful imprisonment affair in Honduras, and as a consequence decided to sell his commission and sail to Van Diemen’s Land. He arrived at Hobart Town aboard the Cumberland in January 1825, when Cecilia Ann was just three and a half. His main occupation through much of the next decade was serving as commandant of the severe and isolated Maria Island penal settlement, where he was regularly accused of misappropriating government stores and other forms of theft, but consistently avoided prosecution. Indeed following each indictment Major Lord visited terrible, terrible pain upon his accusers. After the closure of Maria Island in 1832, he was appointed to the police magistracy at Waterloo Point (Swansea) and in the two years following managed to get himself acquitted of stealing still more government property, although eventually he did forfeit his Commission of the Peace. Mrs. Lord died on September 7, 1849, at Okehampton, Spring Bay (Triabunna), and the Major followed suit on April 23, 1865. He was considered to be “as great a villain as any in Van Diemen’s Land,” but I assume marriage to John Leonard Dowling of Ellerslie, Fairfield, effectively removed Cecilia Ann from the unwholesome domestic criminal environment in which she spent her childhood—indeed it is quite possible that Aunt Maida was never made aware of those Regency peccadilloes, any more than Uncle Roy faced up to the shocking massacres through the 1840s of the Aboriginal men, women, and children of East Gippsland.
“Commotion,” the 22-acre property where Uncle Roy and Aunt Maida lived for two or three years between their marriage and his death in 1923, was sold at auction at Scott’s Hotel, 444 Collins Street, Melbourne, on Thursday, September 4, 1924, at 2.30 p.m. According to an advertisement in the previous Saturday’s issue of the Argus, (August 30, p. 2), “the house is a spacious brick and W[eather]. B[oard]. structure, containing 12 rooms, wired-in verandahs, pantries, laundry, and conveniences, manager’s cottage, garage, stable, and farm outbuildings. In addition to the house orchard are 5 acres under full-bearing apples. Also beautiful flower gardens and lawns. Situated in an elevated position in the Kilsyth hills above Croydon, and commanding a beautiful outlook, Commotion is an ideal and complete gentleman’s country residence.” The terms were £500 deposit, the balance payable over 6 years with interest fixed at 6%. No doubt in due course somebody made a fortune by subdividing it, but my recollection is that Aunt Maida never needed to worry too much about money. Gran was still visiting her in Toowoomba in the late 1960s.
Uncle Roy and Aunt Maida were married in Toowoomba on Wednesday, September 1, 1920, and a full account of the event appeared in the social pages of the following morning’s Brisbane Courier (p. 11): “An interesting wedding was celebrated at St. James’ Church, Toowoomba, yesterday morning [September 1], the Rev. A. Davies officiating. The bride, Miss Maida Dowling, is the second daughter of the late Mr. Aubin Dowling (Talgai West) and Mrs. Dowling (Toowoomba)”. Talgai West (above), formerly Ellenthorpe, belonged to the Scottish Australian Investment Company, and Aubin Dowling was its manager. Maida and her sister were born there. In his The Garden of Queensland: Darling Downs (Toowoomba: J. H. Robertson & Co., 1899, p. 42) George Essex Evans described Mr. Dowling as “a prince of managers.” The run consisted of 22,000 acres, about half rolling downs, and the other half lightly timbered loamy ridges. It carried about 1,000 cattle, 70 horses, and 12,000 sheep, chiefly studs, and was purchased by the company for supplying their vast western stations with flock rams. Aubin Dowling originally brought the sheep from Tasmania, where on September 4, 1849, he was born at Campbelltown, the son of John Leonard Dowling, grazier of Ellerslie, Fairfield, and Cecilia Ann, the daughter of Major Thomas Daunt Lord. “The bridegroom, Lieut. Roy Pearson, M.C.,” continued the Brisbane Courier, “is the only son by the late Hon. William Pearson and Mrs. Pearson (Kilmeny [sic] Park, Sale, Victoria). The church was decorated by the girl friends of the bride with a profusion of spring flowers. The bride, who was given away by Mr. Clarke (Talgai), wore a simply cut gown of ivory satin, with overdress of old Limerick lace. A bridal veil of Limerick, lent by Mrs. Tyrwhit, was also worn, and was held in place by a wreath of orange blossom. The bridal bouquet was set in an old-fashioned silver holder. Miss Marjorie Dowling (the bride’s sister, was bridesmaid, and wore a frock of lemon coloured georgette, and a hat of coarse straw in the same shade, set with French posies. Miss Dorothea Walker (the bride’s niece [presumably a daughter of Maida’s half-sister Dorothea; Mr. Dowling evidently married twice]) was also in attendance, wearing a frilled frock of lemon georgette, and small hat with ribbon streamers in a darker shade. They each carried a bouquet tied with the bridegroom’s regimental colours. The bridegroom, who was attended by Colonel Crowther, D.S.O., wore the uniform of the King’s Own Yorkshire Mounted [sic] Infantry, to which regiment he was attached during the war. After the ceremony, Mrs. Dowling entertained the wedding party, which was confined to relatives and a few intimate friends, at tea at the Western Hotel, Toowoomba, where bowls of stock and sweet peas decorated the tables. On leaving for the South, en route to Europe, Mrs. Pearson wore a coat and skirt of fine navy blue serge, and a toque of black straw touched with gold.” I wonder how Uncle Roy earned that Military Cross, to which I have never seen any other printed reference.
Uncle Roy Pearson, Gran’s brother, died on July 31, 1923, “at his residence ‘Commotion,’ Kilsyth,” near Croydon. The death notice, which appeared in The Gippsland Times (Thursday, August 2, p. 2) and elsewhere, laid emphasis on certain particulars, namely “William Roy, only son of the late William Pearson, Kilmany Park, Sale, aged 33 years.” Kilmany was sold to the government in 1921 for subdivision and “soldier settlement,” although it is not entirely clear why this occurred. At his death in 1893 Roy’s grandfather, who created Kilmany in the 1840s, left it to his eldest surviving son and namesake, our great-grandfather, and it seems to have been the younger William’s intention (insofar as it was stated in his will) that Kilmany should eventually pass to Roy, though perhaps not as soon as 1919, when Mr. Pearson died suddenly of a heart attack. Whether Roy tried his hand at running the place and failed, or else the debts accumulated during the First World War were simply too burdensome, the decision to give up Kilmany was obviously taken as a consequence of settling his father’s estate. Anecdotal evidence suggests that Roy drank heavily, and it may have been that he died as a consequence of chronic alcoholism even though phthisis and myocarditis were the officially certified causes of death. Perhaps something traumatic happened to Roy during the war that marriage to Maida Frances Blood Dowling failed to heal, and the disappointment of losing Kilmany Park gravely exacerbated—we shall almost certainly never know for sure; certainly he served as an officer of the twelfth Reserve Regiment of Cavalry (13th Hussars) and the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, and evidently suffered from sunstroke in Mesopotamia. But it is clear that in piecing together a sort of life for himself after the sale of Kilmany, Roy identified powerfully with his family’s Gippsland legacy. On his death certificate he is described as “Grazier,” with a capital G, as his late father is also. Either Roy chose to be buried in Sale (on August 2), or that exceedingly inconvenient choice was made for him. However that is not what concerns me here. “Commotion,” the odd name Roy chose for his house and grounds at Kilsyth, near Croydon on the outskirts of Melbourne, was borrowed from the most celebrated of his grandfather’s racehorses. According to the Argus (Wednesday, October 14, 1885, p. 5), “No racehorse has ever been so peculiarly identified with the Flemington racecourse as Commotion.” (The elder William was one of the founding members of the Victoria Racing Club.) “His retirement from the turf,” that is, Commotion’s, “just on the approach of the Melbourne Cup, affords an opportunity of recalling a few memories connected with this superb horse, whose record is second to none in Australia. Many years ago, Mr. G. A. Brown, of this city, who has for a long time been connected with the staff of the Argus and the Australasian, bought while in England a brown thoroughbred colt for a park hackney, giving 84 guineas for the animal. It was well bred, being by Alarm from Queen of Beauty. Alarm’s sire was the famous stayer Venison, Beauty was by Melbourne, and farther back it would be superfluous to go. Mr. Brown says, ‘The colt was a bag of bones, or I would never have got such aristocratic breeding for the money in England.’ He called his bargain St. George, and brought him to Australia, but a well-informed friend pointed out that the colt had a name when he bought him. He was called Panic—‘a very good name, too,’ it was remarked, ‘for a son of Alarm.’ Mr. Brown therefore adhered to that name. Panic found his way to Tasmania, and into the hands of Mr. Samuel Blackwell. Mr. Blackwell lived at Melton Mowbray, named after the famous English headquarters of hunting. Then Mr. Phillips trained and raced Panic. He ran second to grey Toryboy in the Melbourne Cup of 1865. He became the sire of many stout racers, including Wellington, Melbourne, Pell Mell, and, the greatest of all, Commotion—an excellent name for the son of Panic and grandson of Alarm. Commotion’s dam was Evening Star, by Lord Clifden, tracing back to Newminster, Voltigeur, and Melbourne. Commotion had Melbourne on both sides in his breeding, and in Melbourne only would he race to advantage, having a prejudice against Sydney, Adelaide, and even Geelong. At the V.R.C. Spring Meeting of 1881 he was found making his debut, as a three-year-old, in the Derby, under the pink jacket, blue sash, and black cap of Mr. Phillips. He excited no notice in the saddling paddock, and was not mentioned at all in the betting. Darebin won, with Commotion a bad third. The Railway Stakes, next day of the meeting, brought him out of his shell, for he won easily. At the V.R.C. Midsummer meeting, New Year’s Day, 1882, he ran Coriolanus to three-quarters of a length for the Champion Race, being ridden by [the famous Tom] Hales. His second win was scored at the V.R.C. autumn meeting, when he first showed his superlative form by carrying off the St. Leger, and turning the tables on Darebin, who was third. Mr. Phillips was first and second with two Panics—Commotion and Pell Mell. Commotion likewise won the Town Plate, weight for age, two miles, with the veteran Wellington, another Panic, second. Nevertheless, it is remarkable that both owner and public preferred Pell Mell to Commotion, for the former started first favourite, at even money on him, and was nowhere. Commotion won with the greatest ease by three lengths, beating not only Wellington and Pell Mell, but also Progress, Darebin, Sweet William, Coriolanus, Salisbury, and Santa Claus. This was one of his best races. Commotion’s records away from Melbourne may be omitted, because they are of much less importance than those of his doing at Flemington. As a four-year-old, he opened by winning the Veteran Stakes, at the V.R.C. Spring Meeting, with The Assyrian second, and First water third, thus beating the Melbourne Cup winner The Assyrian, to whom he gave 5th. He also won the Canterbury Plate by over two lengths, beating Darebin, Sweet William, and The Assyrian. In the meantime, it should have been mentioned, he became the property of Mr. Pearson, who gave 1,400 guineas for him apparently at his zenith, and yet Commotion far outdid afterwards all he had accomplished before. Next he won the Champion Stakes on New Year’s Day, 1883, by a short half-head, beating Guesswork, Navigator, Calma, and Segenhoe. His five-year-old record opened with cutting down the field in the Melbourne Stakes at the V.R.C. Spring Meeting. Next came the first of his masterly performances under crushing weight in the Melbourne Cup, with Martini-Henry first, First Water second, Commotion third, carrying 10 st[one]. 1 lb.—a performance not beaten by very much in The Bath’s Sydney Cup. When the Melbourne Cup came around again in 1884, Commotion displayed the finest rush of his life in a desperate grapple with Malua, to whom he ran second, only beaten by half a length, and he soon after defeated Malua in the Canterbury Plate. His wins of the Midsummer Handicap and Champion Stakes, for the second time, finished up his brilliant chronicle. To this splendid horse all distances have been alike, and he has shown himself remarkable for dash, but his Midsummer Handicap victory; for pace, by his two achievements in the Melbourne Cup races; and for endurance by his two wins of the Champion Race. He is the most popular horse that ever galloped on the Melbourne racecourse.” Eight years later, shortly after the death of the Hon. William Pearson, M.L.C., of Kilmany Park, the Argus (Saturday, October 28, 1893, p. 6) reported: “DEATH OF COMMOTION. The old sire Commotion, belonging to the late Mr. Wm. Pearson, was shot on Thursday, having utterly broken down.” Roy was only three, so it is hardly surprising that for him, if not so much for his three sisters, “Commotion” remained the stuff of legend, the revered memory of what might have been. Perhaps wisely, Aunt Maida, his young widow, returned to Toowoomba in the hills of far-distant southern Queensland, where she married Uncle Roy in 1920.
My great-grandparents, William and Sophie Pearson, were actually touring Wales with their children when war broke out in August 1914, but this snapshot photograph was taken in Hyde Park shortly afterwards, at around the time their only son, Uncle Roy, joined the British Army. It was to be as close as possible to Roy, who served as an officer in the 13th Hussars in France and Mesopotamia, that, having sailed all the way back to Victoria at the end of the year, almost straight away, in 1915, the Pearsons decided to return to England, where they remained for the duration of the war.
Maybe because he had earlier served on certain defence committees, William must have known or guessed that it would be a long haul, because he resigned his seat in the Legislative Council of Victoria, and entrusted his Australian affairs to his brothers and an array of (as it eventually turned out) fairly incompetent business agents.
Something of the devotion of the parents is clearly visible here, as well as the almost raffish informality of the Australian golden boy and heir to Kilmany Park.
William died prematurely, in 1919, and the following, rather pompous obituary duly appeared in The Gippsland Times on Thursday, April 3, 1919:
The Late William Pearson.
The news of the passing away, rather suddenly, of Mr. William Pearson, at his residence, Kilmany Park, on Monday morning last [March 31, 1919], occasioned widespread regret throughout the district. Early in the morning Mr. Pearson was about his home as usual, but his heart suddenly failed him, and he passed peacefully away before the arrival of Drs. Macdonald, Hagenauer, and Campbell. The deceased gentleman was the third son of the late Hon. William Pearson, one of the early and highly esteemed pioneers of Gippsland, and the Kilmany Park property has been in the family’s possession for three score and a half years. Mr. Pearson was at one time the owner of Bonegilla Station, near Wodonga, which he sold on succeeding to the Kilmany Park Estate. He was keenly interested in sport generally, and at times had a horse in training. At one time he was President of the Sale Turf Club. At the time of the visit of His Majesty the King to Victoria [as Duke of Cornwall and York, to open the first Federal Parliament in the Exhibition Building in Melbourne in May 1901], close on 20 years ago, Kilmany Park was placed at His Majesty’s disposal as a shooting box, and on the occasion of his visit there His Majesty was entertained at afternoon tea by Mr. and Mrs. Pearson. Mr. Pearson’s death was not altogether unexpected, as he had been in indifferent health for some time. He had only lately returned from England, where he had been to see his only son, Roy, who is still on active service with the British army in France. Besides the soldier son, the widow and two daughters survive Mr. Pearson. One of the daughters [Aunt Mim] is the widow of the late Captain [Pat] Jackson, who was killed in action. His surviving brothers are Messrs. John and Alex[ander]. Pearson, of Berwick and Glenroy, respectively. The deceased gentleman took an active part in the public life of Sale. For some time he was a member of the Sale Borough and Rosedale Shire Councils [in which latter capacity my grandfather, William Borthwick, eventually also served]. He was also an ex-President of the North Gippsland Agricultural Society, with which body he was associated for a considerable number of years. The deceased represented the Gippsland Province in the Legislative Council from 1896 to 1916, being succeeded by the Hon. G. M. Davis. His father [and namesake] represented the same province from 1881 to 1893.
He was 54 years of age.
By Mr. Pearson’s death the Diocese of Gippsland is deprived of one of its pillars. He has been a member of the Trusts Corporation since its inception, and for many years was chairman of committees of the Synod. In public, as in private life, he was a conscientious and honourable man, and was of a retiring disposition.
The funeral, which was largely attended, took place on Tuesday afternoon [April 1, 1919], the interment taking place in the Sale Cemetery. The chief mourners were the deceased’s brothers, Messrs. J[ohn]. and A[lexander]. Pearson, and his [numerous] brothers-in-law, Messrs. Gooch. The Sale Borough Council was represented by the Mayor, councilors, and the town clerk, and the Council of the Diocese of Gippsland by the Chancellor, Mr. P. P. Sargeant; advocate, Mr. William Bruce; registrar, Mr. C. W. Bell, and Messrs. L. C. Treloar, E. R. M’Quie, and A. L. Johnson. The Cathedral Chapter was represented by Messrs. R. J. Cherry, G. Walker, R. Williams, and E. Phipps, senr. The burial service was conducted by the Bishop of Gippsland, assisted by the Rev. R. G. Nichol, Warden of the Divinity Hostel. In an impressive address, His Lordship referred in eloquent terms to the life of the deceased, and various traits in his character.
The funeral arrangements were in the hands of Messrs. L. Jensen & Co.
It is a reflection of the close-knit nature of Edwardian society in East Gippsland that before too long Dr. Hagenauer's daughter married the youngest of the numerous Borthwick boys, Uncle Ron, whom the Pearson children, including Gran, grew up with as friends and neighbours.
Whether William Pearson took the decision to sell Kilmany before he died, or this became necessary shortly afterwards, Uncle Roy survived the war, got married to Aunt Maida, and evidently drank himself into oblivion. Kilmany was in 1921 sold to the government for subdivision and soldier settlement. Roy Pearson died at his residence "Commotion," at Kilsyth near Croydon on July 31, 1923, shortly before his own mother died at Metung. He was 33. Aunt Maida retired to Toowoomba in southern Queensland. She and Uncle Roy had no children.
Aunt Mim was not so lucky. She was left a fearfully young widow, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that Gran's hopes for marriage, too, were dashed by the catastrophe of the First World War. An engagement in 1914 to a young Australian submariner was for some reason irrevocably broken, before he was lost at sea in the closing days of the war, and Keith Borthwick, with whom Gran spent a considerable amount of time at coming-out dances in 1912 in Sale and Melbourne, and also golfing at Kilmany and Traralgon, was in 1915 killed at the Nek (Gallipoli).
Gran must have been aware when eventually she married our grandfather, William Borthwick, at Sale in 1920 that the heart condition which had prevented him from serving with his brothers in the A.I.F. (but not from volunteering) might well cause him to die prematurely, but in due course my grandfather died in 1953 at almost exactly the same early age at which Gran's own father died in 1919.
Fortunately, this glum pattern has not persisted, and the Pearson and Borthwick genes have evidently responded extremely well since then to medical advancements.
