A Tale of Tom and Flora

On a cold grey autumn day in the Scottish town of Paisley, on the 5th of September 1890 a third son was born to Edward and Jane (nee Ritchie) McGorum (1858-1898). In keeping with the Celtic tradition of giving sons their Mother’s Maiden names as a second name, the bairn was named, Thomas Ritchie McGoram. At the time of time of Thomas’ birth, the family were living at 3 Cart Street,[1] and Edward worked as a Carter. Thomas was the youngest of three boys, Peter, Andrew and David [2] and he also had a sister, Jessie who was one year when he was born.

Jane and Edward had three more children after Tom, Edward Ritchie McGorum (1893-1982) Catherine (c1895-1897 – TBV) and Charles (1889-1899).

The happiness surrounding the birth of a new bairn for the McGorum family was short lived, At the time of Charles’ birth, Jane was ill with Tuberculosis, and died a few months later. The family was still grieving for Jane, when Charles was to follow her to the grave in a matter of months.

With young children in the family, Edward married Elizabeth Milliken on (DTBC).

Edward, (Tom’s father), and three of his children, Peter Ritchie McGorum, Andrew Ritchie McGorum  and Jessie McGorum, all migrated to New Zealand to the city of Auckland in the early 1900s. Edward McGorum, the youngest of the McGorum family arrived in New Zealand, along with his Step-mother, Elizabeth Milliken around 1904.

Thomas and his brother David Ritchie McGorum, departed London, England on 16 September 1910 bound for Wellington, New Zealand; on the Ship, ‘ARAWA’ . The two brothers had listed their occupation as Farm Labourers and travelled as 3rd Class passengers. Tom’s Passenger No was listed as: A012587, and David’s was: A012586[3]

During the First World War, Tom was in the NZ Army Reserve; and due to having flat feet he was not able to go to war overseas. Thomas played Football (Soccer) almost from the time he stepped off the ship, and while living in Petone, Wellington he played for the Thistle Club, and even represented Wellington in an Inter-Island match. Moving around the North Island, Tom was able to find work in various area, and at one stage he was working in Mt Maunganui, for the Railway and was called as a witness to a deliberate setting of a fire, at the Mt Maunganui Railway Station.[4]

At some time around c1920, Tom his father and brothers, except for David, change their surname from the spelling of McGorUm to McGorAm.

Jessie Flora Roberta Rose was born in Takaka, Golden Bay near Nelson in the South Island of New Zealand, on 3rd of August 1902. Joseph and Elizabeth (nee Scott) Rose. Flora (as she preferred to be called), was the second child in a small family of 3 children, which included Gordon Stuart Rose and later her younger sister Beatrice (Bea) Rose.

Tom married Flora in 1935 in the Registry Office in Auckland, with Jessie (nee McGoram) Smith and Guy Smith as their witnesses. Jessie was Tom’s only living sister, she would often come around to visit us at Robert St; she was large solidly built lady and was comfortable driving her car all around Auckland; I am off the belief she was the only McGoram who kept in touch with the various members of the family. A few days after Tom and Flora were married, they drove down to Levin, (near Wellington) to visit Flora’s father, Joseph Rose while there they had a photograph taken of the three of them.

Less than a year after being married, Tom and Flora married, their lives changed when they adopted a baby boy, whom they named John Edward McGoram.

In time the McGoram family expanded and Tom and Flora became parents to many children. Dorothy McGoram and Robin McGoram were adopted when they were respectively, 12 and 10 years. Six children, were fostered from babies until leaving home to be married - Jim, Selma-Janet, Margaret (Mags), Michael (Mackel), Rosemary (Rose) and Ian. The six foster children were not available for adoption; however Jim changed his name to James Thomas Ritchie McGoram, and myself, Selma Janet Fox (now known as Selma Janet McGoram), changed our names via deed poll in honour and respect for our parents. 

McGoram House in Elerslie

The years between 1936 and 1969 saw MANY foster children pass through the small, three bedroom, weatherboard house in Robert Street, Ellerslie; most of the children were of mixed race and I can recall Mum saying those “wee ones will have a tough road to hoe in life, so I want to give them a good start.”  At times there could be up to four babies in our home; all waiting to be adopted or returned to their mothers once they (the mothers), were ”back on their feet”.

Flora was a strict parent and the girls all had to help around the house, prepare school lunches, make our beds, vacuum the house, etc. The boys didn’t have to any chores, and often my sister, Mags and I used to feel very annoyed about this!  However, Flora had a soft heart, and sadly she just didn’t know how to show it; I suppose due to growing up in the early 1900s, when people were not demonstrative as they are these days (2020). I recall coming home from school one day, crying as I had been teased because I didn’t live with my ‘real’ parents. Mum told me, “you are luckier than those children, because you have two mothers and three fathers”. When I asked what she meant, I was told, “you have Mummy and Daddy, your real mother and father and your Father in Heaven”; I felt SO much better once I heard that explanation.

Tom worked for the New Zealand Railways for most of his working life, as a Metal Worker; the skill of working and creating objects out of metal came in very particularly useful with a growing family. I often used to sit on the step leading into Dad's garage and workshop, to watch him make and repair many varied items of metal, tin and wood. We had a fuel burning stove for cooking, and to heat the water for the many baths required. Dad made the best-looking coal and coke container; made of steel, it was divided inside into two sections, one for coal and the other for coke; a door on the outside, set across the two divisions allowed the two fuels to be dragged very easily into the one bucket.  When the huge container was empty my brothers, sisters and myself would climb in and play amongst the black dust, we had fun.  Mum was not happy to see five children with skin and clothes covered in the coal and coke dust!

A large household meant washing day was every day for Mum, so a larger clothesline was required, Dad came to the rescue. The best and highest clothesline in all of Ellerslie was the result.  The line was so high, Dad made Mum steps out of old railway carriage doors, which were good strong red, baked enamelled steel, which was still going strong in the 1970s!

Well, thanks to Dad we had two other pieces of play equipment in the back yard!

The clothesline became a swing, climbing to the top step, we would grab one of the wooden struts and jump off with a forward motion; to create the swing and around we would go.  Mum used to growl at us to not “swing on the clothesline", to no avail, we were having so much fun.

The clothesline steps would be turned on to the side, a piece of canvas would be thrown over and we would have a hut; many hours of fun were had with the clothesline and the steps.

References

[1] Ancestry.com. 1891 Scotland Census. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 2007

[2] Ancestry.com. 1891 Scotland Census. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 2007

[3] Ancestry.com. UK, Outward Passenger Lists, 1890-1960. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2012

[4] Bay of Plenty Times, Bay of Plenty Times, Volume XLIII, Issue 6173, 28 August 1915

(to be continued....Selma Janet McGoram. June 2020).

Sarah's Tale - (a story of Sarah Murray-Cassidy-Marsh’s Life)

 Captured!

“Gotcha!” I FROZE! Many times, in the past I had stolen clothes, not to clothe me family, but to sell; the money came in handy to buy food. I was working as a servant in one of the country houses, but me wages were bad. 

     

It was the eve of the annual potato harvest. Folks everywhere were out and about celebrating. It was easy to steal a few clothes. I was desperate to try and feed me children. Heaven knows where me husband, Cormick was! No one had seen him for weeks! There was NO way I could rely on Cormick to put food on the table for us, and the four of our five children still at home; and sure, as heck, NO way he could save me! I had to fend for meself! I was only small, but I still lashed out with all the strength of me wiry body.  I was fighting for me life! Arms, legs, teeth, trying to shake the person off me. It was a waste of me time, me captor was far too strong. I was well and truly caught! The date was 1836 and knew it would be Van Diemans Land for me. Never to see me family again! 

Who am I? 

Me name is Sarah, and I was born a Murray in Monaghan in Ireland; I think about 1797, I didn’t have no learnings, so I am guessing the date. Cormick Cassidy and me got married a couple of years before our son John was born in 1813. We had a rough time, because me being Protestant and him a Catholic, people were not nice to us. Cormick found it hard to find work, so would often take off for months to look for something. I had to fend for me self and the kids. As for me Ma and Da, they treated me as if I was dead for marrying a Catholic. It hurt SO much to not be able to see me parents, brothers, and sisters, just because of who I married. Cormick was treated the same by his family as well. We were on our own.

Me family, being Protestant, lived amongst the neat fine houses, near the posh, gentrified part of the town, and that is where I grew up. Mongahan, was a Market Town, and was split by religion, politics and class. The heart of the town the ‘Diamond’, was where the 'landed gentry' promenaded past their grand church, in their fine clothes; and shopped at the good shops.  

Cormick, being a Catholic grew up in the ‘Shambles’ area of the town. The houses were dirty, crowded hovels, surrounded by animal pens. Cormick would tell me the smell of the pig market, and awful stink of the animal slaughterhouses was unbearable. I really don’t know how folk could’ve lived there, but his family had no choice! Riots and bloody fights between the Catholic and Protestants would happen daily. To top it all off, the rotten English Landlords, forced the Catholics to pay crippling taxes and tithes. The need to free himself from living in such a hovel, was Cormick’s main reason for escaping the ‘Shambles’. Maybe our falling in love and marrying helped him to be free; although it was a hard, hard road we had to walk. 

What do I look like?

Like many of the folks I know, we are all about the same height. I am told I am short, only 4 feet 11 ½  inches, (149.86cm). Me skin is dark, and me face has a sickly look. Cormick used to like to run his fingers through me long dark hair! Me eyes are grey with yellow flecks. A few years ago, I bumped into a door and knocked out me two top front teeth; and the others stick out. I have a beauty spot just above the right side of me top lip. Last year, while I was playing with our wee pussy, it scratched me on the schrone (nose) it bled so much I now have a scar. There is also a scar on the back of me left hand from where I cut myself while using a small fork to dig praties, (potatoes).

The Trial.

Monaghan Court House

Me trial was set for 24 October 1836, and because I lived in Monaghan, the trial took place in the local court. Standing in the dock, I felt me whole body shaking with fear, I was trembling so hard me stomach and back ached!  Holding onto the dock railing did not help ease the shakes, and me teeth were chattering so loudly, I was told to “be quiet!” 

What was going to happen to me? How will my children manage without their Ma? Will I be transported? These and many other questions raced across me brain, as I awaited me fate. I had heard of people from me village being sentenced to death for stealing; so, I sent a quick prayer to the Lord above.  

The Sentence.

Whew! I gave a HUGE sigh of relief; I was not going to be put to death! Transportation was not such a bad fate, I had heard! At least I will be alive! Me sentence was for seven years, then I would be free. However, one thought rushed across me mind, What good was that; how will I ever be able to return to Ireland? But wait! What was that the Judge said? I can take me two youngest children with me? Well, at least I will have me two young caileens, (young girls),with me, on the journey into the unknown.  

 

Me Children.

Cormick and me had four children. Three of them were old enough to look after themselves, although I did NOT want to leave them. John, me eldest had joined the Army and in the 99th Regiment of Foot in 1832, at least he was fed and clothed. When I was arrested, John and his family, (wife Mary Ann and daughter, Rosanna Francis b.1833) were living in a country called Mauritius. Catherine was working for one of the local potato farmers, and at 18 years she was a young woman. Our other daughters were only young. Elizabeth (aka - Bessie) was only 8 years, and Mary Ann was 10 years. I was sásta mar (happy as), to know I would at least have me two young caileens, on the journey with me.

The trip to Kilmainham Gaol, Dublin.

On a chilly autumn morning, while most of Monaghan slept, the three of us, were shoved into a large wooden cart and removed from the town of me birth. There was a new goal in Kilmainham, Dublin, which opened in 1796; we were going there. I told the Prison people I was a widow. (Note: On two occasions Sarah had stated 1.she was married and 2. She was a Widow).  No one had heard from Cormick for months, was he even alive? I might as well be a widow! I shut me eyes in anguish as the horse-drawn cart clattered along the road? The trip to Dublin was an uncomfortable one. I had one of me girls each side of me, snuggled in to keep warm, close and safe. I was proud of me girls, they were so brave, not a tear from either of them. I felt like sobbing. I knew I had to be strong for the girls. The cart was packed tight with other women and children; at least there was some warmth from all those bodies. It was a rough ride and we all felt each bump in the muddy, rut filled road. After three rough days of travel, it was a good to arrive at the Gaol, after all it was clean, dry and there was FOOD! 

The leaving of Cork, Ireland.

Me small family and me lived in Kilmainham Gaol until we once again were bundled into a cart, along with other convicts. We were being moved from Dublin to Cork. I had never travelled so far in me life. Finally, we arrived bruised, dirty and hungry in Cork. Good news, we were all given new clean clothes. 

The morning of 2 January 1837 the ship convict ‘Margaret’ left the Port of Cork. 

Fields around Monaghan, Ireland

We were leaving our homeland and the green fields of Ireland. Oh my! There was much weeping and keaning (whimpering) from convicts and free passengers. I tried SO hard not to cry. I wanted to be strong for me girls, but I could not help me self. I wept. I cried out loud. The three of us huddled together and soon our tears were dry. I knew we had to be strong.  We were lucky, we had each other. To tell the truth, I had never been on the water, even on a raft. I did not know how I would manage the long journey. Many of us onboard had heard tales of illness, and even death on board the ships, it was not something to look forward too! What about the stories I had heard of the 'Neva' which had sunk on the way to New South Wales last year? How will I keep me two young daughters safe?  However, I could not help thinking that things would turn out right for us in the new land. There were tales going around the ship, of two crops of potatoes being grown in one year. How wonderful that would be? Never to be hungry again. To be warm, and to suffer no more from the long frozen Irish winters.  

The Journey across the seas.

Oh my, the rocking and rolling of the ship soon had us being sick all over the place.  When was this going to end? I ended up being so sick with Febrile Remittens, (Recurring Fever),  I had the doctor, Henry Kelsall, looking after me in the sick bay for four weeks. I worried about me caileens, so, I’d asked one of the other mothers to keep an eye on them for me. I tell ya, me courage was sorely tested on this trip. There were many problems; the worst was nearly everyone had the itches, (scabies), nearly drove us mad. To try and kill the beasts we would save our piss in buckets and then wash our clothes in the stinking mess! Oh, the smell - nearly made me sick all over again! At least it kept the beasties away - for a while.The Captain of the ship was Edward Canny; but it was the Doc who looked after us prisoners and free folk. 

Arrival in Sydney Cove.

Sydney Cove, NSW, Australia, 1835

Finally, land was in sight! The ship sailed into a large harbour, which was surrounded by land. We were told the date was 30 May. The journey had taken 126 days. The ship put down anchor in Sydney Cove, New South Wales, Australia. Small boats were rowed to the ship to take us to the shore, which was lined with houses like in the gentry area of Monaghan. For me self and me girls, we felt worried as to what was going to happen to us now. 

Officers of the Army writ down me details. Prisoner No.37/139, Trade: Country Servant. Offence: Stealing Clothes. Year of Birth: 1797. Sentence: 7 years. Marital Status: Widowed.

I soon found out what was gonna happen to me girls, they were goin' to the female 'Home for Orphans' in a place called Parramatta, which was up the river. The girls were given clean clothes and were goin' to be taught reading, writing, needlework and to be House Maids. I was happy about the lessons, and the learning of needlework, but SO sad we were being parted. For meself, I was sent to work for Richard Linley, as a servant, he lived across the other side of the harbour. A ferryman took us across the harbour, to Mr Linley’s shipyard in Burns Bay Road. I was wondering when I would see my girls again. 

Married again! 

Well, who would a thought it, I found meself a fella! A kindly looking man, (same age as me, 40yrs), of the name of William Marsh, he had arrived as a Free Settler on the ship ‘Harvey’ in 1827. John Clarke, who was William’s boss said he was “well conducted in character.”  Me boss, Richard Linley writ me a good report; said I “conducted myself well in person and character” and gave his consent for me to marry. On 23rd May 1837 the ’Guvnor’ gave his permission for William and me to marry. Our wedding day soon came around and on 26th December 1837 we were married at St Phillips Church, Sydney. I was SO happy, now I could get me girls back. I went to live with me husband  William, and both worked for John Clarke, in Windmill St. Sydney.  Life was looking good for me after only being here for six months!

 

Free At Last!

The years between arriving in 1837 and when I was given my 'Certificate of Freedom' No.43/2219 on  27th December 1843, were busy ones. I had learnt to sew, and to speak proper like, and I was learning to read. 

My three caileens, Catherine, (Note:Catherine was transported for stealing, and arrived in six months after Sarah), Mary Ann and Elizabeth, had married and had children of their own; they could read, write, sew and cook. My son, John was still in the Army, (Note:The 99th regiment of Foot arrived in Australia in 1842), and was living with his family in Hobart, Tasmania, and I only saw them when the 99th regiment came to Sydney, but I was happy. 

Last Farewells.

Sadness came to my family over the years with the death of some of my children and my husband. 

Catherine passed in 1850 while living in Maitland, when she was living there, I could see her often.

William died on 27th July 1861, after 23 happy years together, he was 80 years. I miss him.  

My darling Bessie (Elizabeth) went to the Lord in 1869, while living in Sydney; we were very close, I long to chat with her SO much.

Sarah’s Final Day

1873 February 14 was Sarah’s last day on this earth, (BDM Registration No.236.  The closing days of Sarah Murray-Cassidy-Marsh’s life, must have been so very sad for this remarkable, strong woman. 

By the time Sarah passed away, Catherine, Elizabeth and William had all died; and her son, John was living in Tasmania. Mary Ann was living in the Hunter Valley. Letters between the family would have kept everyone across how everyone was doing. The tyranny of distance meant they could not attend Sarah’s funeral; and the lack of extra monies meant they could also not afford to pay for a funeral.

Hyde Park Barracks, Sydney, NSW, Australia

At the time of her death, Sarah was 76 years and living in the Hyde Park Asylum, (Note: Now Hyde Park Barracks, a Heritage Listed Building), a home for infirm and destitute women. 

For the women living at the Asylum, it was like a Old Age Home. There were lots of elderly Irish women who preferred living there; they could cook their own food and have a sense of Community. Why was there no one to care or worry about her? Why did Sarah end up in a Pauper’s grave? 

Rookwood Cemetery, Auburn, Sydney, New South Wales is Sarah’s final resting place in the old Catholic section, in an unmarked, Public Grave, which is shared with Elizabeth McGaunbry.

 

Conclusions

Sarah had listed herself as being a widow, so she was free to marry. After arriving on the Margaret, Sarah chose to marry William Marsh, an English free settler.

Fortunately, with the distance of time, we can see the benefit of the impact on the family. The climate of Australia was conducive to many of the convicts (and Free Settlers) living to good ages; thanks to a plentiful supply of good food, fresh water, sunshine to develop strong bones, and freedom from the harsh winters and slums of Ireland. 

 

Research has shown me the possibility of transportation sometimes being regarded, not as a punishment, but as a way of improving the situation for many of the Convict women.  This resonates with how I have always regarded Sarah, not as a victim but as a woman of action, able to endure and not give up. 

I think Sarah was instrumental in all her children coming to Australia where they survived and flourished. 

Sarah’s life is a testament to strength, tenacity and courage, all part of our family saga.  

We are thankful to Sarah for stealing those clothes, as none of us would be here without her.

A Grave Marker for Sarah 

Many of the descendants of Sarah and Cormick Cassidy have express willingness to contribute towards the cost of a Grave Marker for Sarah. So far enough money has been collected for the plaque; and after the easing of restrictions for the Covid-19 Pandemic, Sarah will finally have a marker to show the world she existed. 

Authors: 

This document has been written by Selma Janet McGoram 4 x Great Grand-daughter of Sarah and Cormick Cassidy. I am from Elizabeth Cassidy’s line.

Some content has been extracted from a short story written by Cathy Shaskoff, who is a 3 x Great Grand-daughter of Sarah and Cormick. Cathy is from Mary Ann Cassidy’s line. 

Janet – The Tusitala

Janet once lived in a little house in Ellerslie, Auckland in beautiful Aotearoa, the country the rest of the world knows as New Zealand. 

Janet lived with the McGoram family:

• Tom her Dad 
• Flora her Mum 
• John her brother 
• Dorothy her sister 
• Robin her brother
• Jim her brother 
• Mags her sister 
• Mackel her brother
• Rose her sister 
• Ian her brother and 
• Derek her baby brother.

Janet liked to read.

Janet would read anything with words on it:

• milk cartons 
• bottle tops 
• lolly wrappers 
• cereal boxes 
• comics 
• newspapers 
• magazines 
• and her dad’s favourite -The National Geographic.

However, what Janet liked to read best of all was BOOKS.

The family had an old wardrobe, painted bright green, which was kept in the back shed, where the wood for the kitchen and living room fires was kept.

Janet thought the back shed was the best place in the world, because the bright green wardrobe was there.

The bright green wardrobe was FULL of BOOKS.

• Big books 
• Little books
• Soft cover books
• Hard cover books 
• Pop-up books and 
• Colouring books.

When Flora wanted to find Janet, she would always know where to look for her first - in the back shed.  Janet would be there reading one of the beautiful books.

Janet had a friend called Eliana-Rose, who was a beautiful happy, smiling Samoan girl.  

All the family called Eliana-Rose, Ana it was their name for her because she was their special friend.

One day Janet told Ana, “When I grow up, I want to be a Tusitala.”

Ana laughed and said, ‘Tusitala is a Samoan word, do you know what it means?”

Janet smiled and said, “I know a Tusitala is a person who tells lots of stories.  I read it in a book, so I will be a Tusitala for the McGoram Family, when I grow up.” 

The best part of this story is Janet, is the Tusitala of the McGoram Family and this is a story for all of them, but especially for Eliana-Rose.

A story for the young McGoram Whanau

Once upon a time in the beautiful land of Aotearoa, in a town called Ellerslie, lived Thomas & Flora McGoram who had so many children, but they didn’t live in shoe.

The 1st child was John, who studied his Bible and grew up to be a Missionary and travelled to distant lands.

The 2nd child was Dorothy, who grew up to make talking books for blind people and drove around Auckland on her scooter.

The 3rd child was Robin, who grew up to play Rugby League for Ellerslie Eagles and was a king at working out crosswords.

The 4th child was Jim, who made the best trolleys in Ellerslie and grew up to make his own beer and wine.

The 5th child was Selma Janet, who loved reading, writing stories and history; and grew up to be a Tusitala (storyteller) and lived at Dee Why Beach in Australia.

The 6th child was Margaret (Mags), who grew up to be the best Mother and the best darts player in Tauranga.

The 7th child was Michael (Mackel), who grew up to drive a big blue fork hoist and had a Mohawk haircut like a Native American Indian.

The 8th child was Rosemary, (Rose) who had lots of black curly hair, could play the piano SO well and grew up to be a Fortune-Teller.

The 9th child was Ian, who was Rosemary’s, little brother and was loved by all of us and grew up to have the best smile and singing voice of all.

The 10th child was always a baby, who lived with Thomas and Flora and all the children, until some good lady and man chose the child as their very own special baby.

Flora used to tell the children they were "very special because we had two Mothers and three Fathers."

When asked "what do you mean?", the response would be, "you have Mummy (Flora) and Daddy (Thomas), your 'real' Mother and Father and your Father in Heaven." 

What a lovely way to explain why we were not living with our birth parents, it made me feel so good.  Thanks Mum.

The McGoram family is very special as Thomas and Flora were unable to have children so; these lucky children were chosen to be their very own.  Thomas and Flora were wonderful people with lots of love for all the different children.

John, Dorothy, Robin, Jim, Janet, and Mags are Pakehas.

Mackel is part Maori, Pakeha and Indian.

Rosemary and Ian are Nuie Islanders.

This story is dedicated to my Mum and Dad, Flora and Tom, with much love.

A Favourite Photograph

One of my favourite photographs is of my Dad - Tom, (Thomas Ritchie McGoram), with two of his brothers, Uncle Davey (David Ritchie McGorum), and Uncle Ted, (Edward Ritchie McGoram), taken before (David & Edward), went to the First World War.

L-R: David Ritchie McGorum. Thomas Ritchie McGoram. Edward Ritchie McGoram

Maybe you are wondering while Tom is not in a Defence Uniform? Tom was diagnosed with “flat feet’ and was classed as medically unfit to go to war, so instead, he remained in New Zealand and served in the Home Brigade. Uncle Davey was the eldest of the three brothers, (in this photo), and Uncle Ted, the younger.

Tom, in the NZ Army Reserve 1915.
Photo taken in the Rimutaka mountain range, in the North Island, New Zealand.

Hmm….maybe you are also thinking, ‘Why are there different spellings for McGorAm/McGorUm?’ Well, when all the family were living in Scotland, the surname was spell as McGorUm, sometime after they moved to New Zealand, some of the family changed their surname to McGorAm, easy, peasy!