"Enough and to spare" - Mrs McMullen of Moreton Park.

As mentioned in the earlier post "The Old Swagman of Wedderburn", swagmen, or 'swaggies' were not an unusual sight in rural areas of Australia during the 1800s and the early 1900s. Itinerant workers who carried their whole lives in their swags, they travelled between pastoral stations throughout the countryside looking for work, a meal, and somewhere to sleep for the night.

Two swagmen resting beneath a tree, Australia,
c1887. J.W.Lindt, NLA

One person who was known to look after swaggies was Mrs McMullen of Moreton Park. Ellen Rosetta McMullen was known to be a most generous and kind hearted soul. She came into possession of Moreton Park in 1858, and for the next fifty years would provide wayfarers with food and shelter. Her generosity was known thoughout the state.
Her family history is by turns complicated and fascinating. Born in 1828, Ellen Rosetta Hughes was the daughter of John Terry Hughes and Esther Hughes, and the granddaughter of Samuel Terry, a convict transported for theft who had arrived in the colony in 1801. By 1807 a freed Samuel Terry was well on his way to making a great fortune. He arranged for John Terry Hughes, his nephew, to come to the colony to join him in his business endeavours. John married Samuel Terry's step daughter Esther.
Ellen was brought up in one of the family properties "Albion House" in Surrey Hills. She married a cousin, Samuel Hughes in 1847 and they had four children. Through her various inheritances, which included the ownership of Moreton Park, Mrs Hughes became a very wealthy woman. She and her husband built the house at Moreton Park which still stands today.
The kitchen was described as "...a beautiful old kitchen and beside it, it had the storerooms, and the places where all the hams and bacon hung and all that, and the great big spit and the old ovens, 'cause they'd be cooking an immense lot at night time, there'd be thirty or forty swagmen there some nights. But over the top of this big fireplace she had written into the stone "Enough and to spare". It's still there. " The swaggies "....were supposed to come to this enormous table, and they could have their night meal and their breakfast, and then go down the sheds, and then they were to move on, but some of them were there for weeks!"

Moreton Park

Ellen's husband Samuel died in 1868, and her second marriage in 1874 was to Franklin McMullen with whom she had one child. Sadly, Ellen would outlive all her children, although she did have a number of grandchildren.
Moreton Park was run with tenant farmers, and other examples of Ellen's generosity included Christmas gifts and a Christmas party every year for all the children of the tenants. In 1896, during serious drought conditions, Ellen, now Mrs McMullen, suspended rent from her tenants for six months owing to the losses they had sustained.
Ellen Rosetta McMullen died in 1914, and was buried in St John's Cemetery, Camden. Such was her reputation that even years after she was gone swaggies would continue to show up at Moreton Park hoping for some of her famous hospitality.


Written by Claire Lynch
Sources:
Oral History with Mrs Cora Wrightson, Campbelltown City Library
Mountbatten Group at Moreton Park Conservation Management PLan 2013
Trove

The Old Swaggie of Wedderburn

When I think of old swagmen from our country's distant past, the photo above is the sort of image that my mind conjures up. There was always something mysterious about them. Like they had no name and didn't come from anywhere in particular and weren't planning on going anywhere special. I remember my grandmother relaying stories of swaggies who visited her shack in the bush during the Great Depression and how they would often 'scare the blazes' out of her and her siblings. They're such a fascinating component of that time when life was so difficult and every day proved a challenge just to survive.

I recently discovered an interesting account of such a swagman in one of the library's resources. Hollie Rees (nee Knight) was born in Warby Street Campbelltown around 1924, but spent her childhood at Wedderburn. She describes her memories as a small child and that of a swaggie well-known at Wedderburn during the height of the Depression. It's compelling reading. Rather than me summarizing it, I thought I would provide her full description in this post. I've no doubt you'll find it enjoyable.

Once a year there used to be an old swaggie. I used to love that old swaggie. He used to come up opposite where the church is, there used to be an old building called the dump. It was a big square place where people that didn't have a lot of fruit used to put it there and the man in the truck used to call there first and he knew if it was Rice's fruit he didn't have go to Rice's, if it was Thompson's fruit he didn't have to go to Thompson's or wherever, and the swaggie used to camp in there.

He had this beautiful cattledog. He came there every year for about four or five years and we all used to race up after school and we'd see the smoke from his fire and we'd say oh, he's back. We never ever found out his name. His dog was blue, and he would disappear the same as he arrived. He'd have a rest and about three or four days later he would just disappear. We never knew where he went or where he came from, but he was a nice old bloke.

He carried his bedroll rolled up, it was a grey blanket with a red stripe, and everything rolled up in it with his billy hanging off the side. It was over his back with two leather straps and practically everything he owned was in that. He just slept on the ground with his dog to keep him warm and he had a bigger billy as well, that was all he had. To us he was ancient, but I would say he may have been maybe his mid-fifties , early sixties, with a beard. He was ruggedly built with vivid blue eyes, I'll always remember those eyes. They would look right at you, he was real happy, he was always laughing. Just happy. He always used to greet us with "Hello kids, been to school again. He'd say "Good, learn what you can".

The old billy was used as a cookpot, I think it used to be stew cooking in there, but what he ate the dog ate. I have never ever seen him go to a shop or anything, he carried it all with him in that bedroll.


Written by Andrew Allen

Source:

"Why Campbelltown?" Interviews