Great Grandfather's Box

The minutes of the first meeting started.

“The first monthly meeting of the Mount View Progress Association was held on Saturday evening Sept 28th 1901, Mr Geo Matthews president in the chair.”

My eyes scanned down the page and on, all the things that my mother talk about all those years ago. A school at Foxy, the deviation of the Pokolbin hills road, etc, etc. It was all there.

I was reading from a very old note book, it was a well bound book, a little tattered, it had a black hard cover and a blue green marbled pattern inside the cover, the sort of book I imagine was used by a well to do person. It was the original minute book of the Mount View Progress Committee. On the first page were some hardly decipherable notes with names and what appeared to be amounts of money. What I could clearly read was:

"Subscriptions receved £0-9-3,

Expenses,

Postcards 2-0

Minuet Book 1-6

Note Paper 2-0

Postage 8-8

14-2

9-3

4-11

It appeared they started with subscriptions from members of nine shillings and threepence and had incurred expenses of fourteen shillings and tuppence thus being short of funds by four shillings and eleven pence.

Now from a single piece of paper, hand written on both sides:

"Memorandum of Agreement, entered into this day twentieth day of July one thousand nine hundred and ten (1910) Between George Thomas Matthews farmer, in the Parish of Pokolbin in the State of New South Wales of the one part, and John Percy Frederick Wilkinson of Maluna in the Parish of Pokolbin in said State of the other part.

(1) Witnesseth that the said George T Matthews for the herein mentioned considerations....

.....the said J P F Wilkinson promises to pay to the said George T Mat" Damn, a small piece of the corner is torn off. "..or assigns the sum of three pence ( more missing, hundred superficial feet of sawn more missing, veyed over said right of way...." It went on to give JPF Wilkinson the option to purchase outright this right of way for 10 years for the sum of 50 pounds which had been crossed out ant 75 pounds written in, a last minute change.

This was something that I had not heard anything about. The Wilkinson name was very familiar and famous in Pokolbin, but not for any reason revealed by this document.

I was fascinated. More than that I was almost in a frenzy reading, no not really, just scanning through all the papers that I had been allowed access to from that box. That box at the end of the veranda that had not been disturbed for over two decades. What else would I find?

This was several years ago, I was engrossed in writing a family history story, a one hundred year history of the Matthews family and their farm “Myrtledale”. I was very proud of what I was doing and had particularly good dialogue going with my uncle, my mother's youngest brother who still lives in the family home on the farm, although the house is a little like the proverbial Grandfather's axe, three new handles and two new heads but it is the same axe.

I had gathered many photographs and stories as well as the mandatory genealogical information. I even had information on the dates and cost of land purchases. My siblings and cousins had contributed and I felt sure that I was producing a worthy family history document. I produced drafts which my mother's siblings had proof read and returned with very minor corrections. One uncle had even said to me "Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story. It won't be long before there will be no one who can challenge it anyway."

I was up at Myrtledale, one of my frequent visits for this project. Myrtledale is where my roots are having lived there in my earliest years. I wanted to add a section on the “business” side to my story. I asked my uncle if there were any records that I might be able to extract some of the "Business" aspects of the family farm to my book. He thought for a moment. I was a little uneasy, this was perhaps digging into a sensitive area. Finally Uncle said "Oh there is a box out on the end of the veranda that Mother kept some records in. I don't know what’s in it but you are welcome to have a look."He went on to say "I don't think it has been opened since Mother died".

"Good I said, I will come back one day soon and have a look".

It was Sunday afternoon about 3 o'clock when I arrived at Myrtledale. Uncle and Aunt were as usual in the sunroom at the front of the house. After the usual greetings and passing over the latest draft of my family history story I announced that I had come to have a look in that "box". My uncle's response was "How long have you come for?" a little taken back as it was clear from his tone that his anticipation of the time necessary was different to mine. "I said oh, I have a couple of hours" to which he replied "you might need a couple of weeks."

After a little more discussion Uncle suggested we go find a cardboard box and I take some of the contents of the box home to go through it.

At this stage I had still not set eyes on the "box" as it was around the corner of the veranda behind the old table that the pumpkins and grammas were stored on and in recent years I had only ever gone around that corner when Uncle said “go around the corner of the veranda before you go, you might find a pumpkin” or it might have been a gramma.

We had found a suitable cardboard box and ventured along the veranda and around the corner. Inconspicuous sitting behind the old table loaded with pumpkins and near the hallway door which is never used was an old plastic table cloth covering what was a fairly large box.

The cover removed revealed a pale green painted wooden box with a hinged lid. The first observation was that the lid, about 18inches wide made from a single piece of timber. The box had had a lock fixed into the top of the side but the keep in the lid had long since gone. Opening the lid revealed that it was completely full of papers, some old photos were obvious but my uncle's attention was on the box itself.

What were obviously handmade hinges secured this single piece of timber to the box, the sides and end also being also made from a single piece of timber. There was a vertical partition, also of a single piece of timber that sectioned off the box. After much discussion on the construction of the box, attention was finally paid to the contents. Many rolled up papers tied with a ribbon or string and marked with financial year dates were obviously tax returns. It soon became obvious that all contents were going to be removed just to get a feel for what was in it or perhaps to get a better look at the box itself. After removing a few layers a small suitcase or what might have been a large school port was revealed, this was packed full of tax returns.

My uncle stood observing and clearly would not be satisfied until the box was empty. The contents were carefully placed, or not so carefully placed and roughly sorted on the veranda. Almost every piece of paper removed and Uncle said "Pass me that one", indicating a folded hand written single piece of paper. Oh oh, I thought he has spotted something sensitive, I might not get to see what that is.