Tag Archives: Mary Pitt

Margaret Betts – tree planter

SHE-OAK Hawkesbury cattle farmer Margaret Betts (Photo
SHE-OAK Hawkesbury cattle farmer Margaret Betts (Photo: Hawkesbury Gazette).

A Writer’s encounter with a rural rebel.

MY two decades of research on the descendants of Mary Pitt eventually led me to the Hawkesbury Valley, where many of Australia’s first settlers were granted land for the purposes of contributing to the survival of the fledgling colony by farming.

With their indelible link to their benefactor Lord Nelson, the two Pitt family farms were named, at different times, ‘Nelson’ and ‘Trafalgar’, in the wake of Nelson’s great 1805 maritime victory at the Battle of Trafalgar.

Finding these original land grants took time.

Nelson Farm had gone by another name for many years, but, as I was to discover, it was still under the stewardship of an indefatigable woman. This feature was published in Blue Mountains Life in June-July 2010.

Out on a Limb

How Margaret Betts reforested an original Hawkesbury farm.

On Nelson Farm near Agnes Banks stands a house known as Bronte, with uninterrupted views of the Blue Mountains.

Even before this region became the cradle of modern Australian agriculture, the fertile river flats yielded food for generations of Aboriginal people.

The house is positioned on an 1802 hundred-acre grant of land to Thomas Pitt. Originally called Nelson Farm, the property was amalgamated with adjacent land granted to Thomas’ mother Mary Pitt and renamed Bronte.

This name remembers British naval hero (and Mary’s benefactor) Lord Horatio Nelson, first Duke of Bronte.

HAWKESBURY HOUSE Bronte on Nelson Farm (Photo: Mary Matcham Pitt family history website).

Mary Pitt’s land grant was eventually sold off, although Bronte remained in the family until 1919.

The impressive mid-Victorian building is not the original, but from Castlereagh Road, the giveaway stands of hoop pine (Araucaria cunninghamii) and bunya trees (Araucaria bidwillii) reveal traces of the original settlers’ use of the land.

Many Hawkesbury heritage properties are open to the public or have become public places, but Bronte on Nelson Farm has always been in private hands, and a working farm since 1802.

The current owner, Margaret Betts, has lived there since 1998, and her parents William and Mary farmed the land since 1955.

“Dad did the hard work and Mum did the reading,” Margaret says, recalling her parents’ years as dairy farmers at Bronte. “They were both from logging country, so they were both what you’d call ‘old school’ farmers,” Margaret relates. “Trees, to them, were just something that sapped-up the goodness out of the soil.”

Mary Betts’ wariness about trees on dairy country became particularly pertinent in 1998, when an enormous oak tree came down in the westerly wind the night after she died, an event which made the local news.

Margaret recalls many such nights taking their toll on the few trees left on the property, and she realised “that if we didn’t do something about it, there’d be nothing left.”

Margaret knew the farm’s history, including the years when her father leased acreage to vegetable farmers with a strict stipulation to leave the stands of Casuarina running down the spine of the property towards the river. “They killed the lot,” Margaret remembers, “and they were original trees on the property.”

For someone who spent her career teaching music and in school administration, continuing her parents’ work at Bronte seems like a totally new angle for Margaret, but I get the feeling she sees farming as something in her genes, and that common sense counts for more than experience.

Margaret had a plan to develop beef production at Bronte, with very different needs to dairy farming, and certainly requiring a lot more shade than vegetable fields provided.

“I could have counted the remaining trees on one hand,” she recalls, “and I needed to do my research,” Margaret stresses.

“This region is part of the Cumberland Plain, in terms of its vegetation. If I was going to plant a large amount of trees I needed to know they were going to be viable.

BUNYA PINE Araucaria bidwillii (Photo: Bidgee)
BUNYA PINE Araucaria bidwillii (Photo: Bidgee)

“We’ve had hoop pine and bunya growing here for well over a hundred years. The settlers planted those, and even though they’re not native to this region, they’ve done well.

“At one stage the bunyas at Bronte were described as the largest stand in the western suburbs, but they’ve very much diminished in recent decades.

“I propagated seedlings from ours and they came up no problem.

“Hoop pines need shelter to get established, but the bunya trees just take off. There were also a few Kurrajong trees (Brachychiton populneus), and quite a few local gum trees which I assumed would do well.”

“But I also remembered the Casuarinas, which are local,” Margaret says. “In my research I found they were one of the only trees which soak up pesticides.”

With high use of pesticides on all sides of her property, Margaret had stumbled on a natural solution to an age-old problem.

The planting of trees did nothing for relations with her neighbours, particularly the vegetable farmers. “They thought I was destroying good farming land,” Margaret says, “so I got a lot of abuse. I still do, only last week one of them was shouting at me over the fence. I just wave back,” she laughs.

“I taught many of them, so they know what I’m like,” she hastens to add, illustrating how her resolve to reforest Bronte has never wavered.

After failed attempts to establish Landcare groups in the area, Margaret realised that if she was going to succeed then she needed to take action on her own. She also discovered that the tree problem was not just apparent above ground – the local water table was severely degraded.

After generations of development, the original reservoirs and lagoons of the Agnes Banks region had become choked with weeds (including water hyacinth and alligator weed), and polluted with litter and sewerage.

Insufficient drainage and water retention from nearby farms meant the water supply for Bronte was contaminated, and that affected Margaret’s cattle with outbreaks of salmonella.

The water problem only seemed to sharpen Margaret’s resolve. “At one stage I was planting around thirty trees a day, I must’ve planted thousands of them over twelve years,” she recalls.

“If you looked out here in 1998,” she says, throwing an arm out to the vista above the nearby Hawkesbury River and distant Yarramundi Lane, which is her western border, “there were only these trees close to the house and little else.”

Now, in a great green belt below Bronte is a reforested barrier of green, mainly Casuarina (river she oak, and swamp she oak), looking more like the glimpses of natural bush at the foot of the Mountains across the river. Twelve years seems like barely enough time for this result.

“The cows love the shade, they’re up here under the trees by seven o’clock on a hot day. The trees have also brought the birds back,” Margaret adds, which surely must annoy the vegetable farmers, I suggest.

“Birds are a natural pesticide,” Margaret replies.

“The water table has been improved so much with those trees,” she indicates, and indeed there are shallow lakes at intervals along the lowest points of the property.

“It’s made me more conscious of water,” Margaret says, “but we need clean water,” she adds, explaining that drainage problems caused by the use of poultry litter as fertiliser on higher-set nearby farms, combined with ineffective Council drainage along the road, contributes to the continual pollution of Bronte’s water table.

The solution was to drill a bore. “Dad was an excellent water diviner,” Margaret recalls. “He found the old wells on the property that way,” illustrating how Bronte’s past has once again become a part of its future.

The Department of Environment and Climate Change Cumberland Plain Recovery Plan draft document of November 2009 suggests private land holders like Margaret are on the right track: “Conservation of the rich biodiversity of the Cumberland Plain in western Sydney is one of the most challenging issues facing natural resources management in New South Wales,” the introduction states.

“Extensive loss and fragmentation of vegetation has occurred, land values are high, and competing land uses are placing extraordinary pressures on the remaining areas of bushland in the region.”

PLUCK COVER copy“You’ve really got to take care of your patch, and keep at it,” Margaret says. “I won’t see most of what I’ve planted come to anything, but others will,” she adds, indicating the hoop pine saplings she propagated and planted, trees which will stand long after their parents have fallen.

© Michael Burge, all rights reserved.

This article appears in Michael’s eBook Pluck: Exploits of the single-minded

Mary Matcham Pitt – mother of a nation

FICTION MEETS FACT Brenda Blethyn as Jane Austen's Mrs Bennet in Joe Wright's 2005 movie Pride and Prejudice.
FICTION MEETS FACT Brenda Blethyn as Jane Austen’s Mrs Bennet in Joe Wright’s 2005 movie Pride and Prejudice.

A Writer’s fascination with an incredible journey.

ONE of Australia’s pioneering settler families – the Pitts – have occupied much of my research and writing for the past two decades.

The primary feature of their story remains the incredible journey taken by matriarch Mary Pitt (née Matcham) who, with her five children, embarked from Portsmouth in England and sailed to the other side of the world in 1801.

Mary’s descendants (and many others) have speculated about the driving forces behind the journey ever since.

Inspired by Germaine Greer’s enlightening life of Ann Hathaway in Shakespeare’s Wife (in which factual possibilities are explored in lieu of primary evidence on a woman who has become relatively ‘invisible’ to history); and with the help of a group of Mary’s great great great great granddaughters (all of them excellent researchers and writers), I eventually got the opportunity to publish a feature article on Mary’s story in the April-May 2010 edition of Blue Mountains Life Magazine (Vintage Press).

GREAT VOYAGE J.M.W. Turner's The Shipwreck (1805) shows seafaring dangers in the same era as Mary Pitt's journey across the earth to Australia.
GREAT VOYAGE J.M.W. Turner’s The Shipwreck (1805) shows seafaring dangers in the same era as Mary Pitt’s journey across the earth to Australia.

Grit & Gentility

A family reunion and Jane Austen shed light on the Hawkesbury’s pioneering matron-of-honour, Mary Pitt.

Altering the plot of Pride and Prejudice by one degree would expose prospects for Georgian women which Jane Austen might never have contemplated. If she’d killed off Mr Bennet in the feared duel over his daughter Lydia’s elopement, his women might have landed in the same boat as early Australian settlers Mary Pitt and her five children, on a factual voyage from Dorset to New South Wales in 1801.

“With her heightened concerns, Mary Pitt even seems like a real-life Mrs. Bennet.”

According to family myth, the death of husband Robert Pitt (a shopkeeper) left Mary in ‘reduced circumstances’ and reliant on her cousin George Matcham, brother-in-law to naval hero Lord Nelson. Their connection brought about a seafaring solution to Mary’s imminent poverty.

Mary wrote to George from onboard the Canada moored at Portsmouth – “May 31 1801 Good Sir We came on board yesterday my situation here is very bad … God knows my heart I would rather fall into the hands of a merciful Creator or to suffer any poverty by his grace to restrain me from falling into the hands of wicked people”.

George had worked for the East India Company and knew the shortage of women in the colony made Mary’s daughters (Susannah, Lucy, Jemima and Esther) a precious currency in a land yet to have its own coin economy. “Have as much patience as possible until the voyage is over,” he wrote, “and then comforts will crowd upon you”.

But Mary was not satisfied about threats to her family’s gentility – “at first the ships crew were continually (sic) passing by to the stores and the surgeons room close by us which I complained of to Captain Patton as being a very unfit place for women …” she related, adding “since there is some alterations”.

The first Pitt family reunion has seen much sorting of historical evidence from family myths, myths that give depth to the lives of the Pitt women but require evidence to be taken seriously as oral history.

As the story of a rural family whose gentility is at risk, with multiple daughters of marriageable age, Pride and Prejudice serves as a cheat’s guide to the period. With her heightened concerns, Mary Pitt even seems like a real-life Mrs. Bennet.

Records of the Pitt’s arrival in Sydney include the marriage of Lucy Pitt to John Wood, third mate on the Canada. On January 11, 1802, barely three weeks after landing, the Pitt women (with Thomas as one of the witnesses) attended Lucy at St John’s church in Parramatta. An old family myth holds that the family stayed with Governor King and his wife Anna at Government House in the same township.

Austen outlines the timing of a genteel marriage – “allowing for the necessary preparation of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes,” Mrs Bennet “should undoubtedly see her daughter settled … in the course of three or four months”.

If Lucy and John courted during the social stopovers typical of migration voyages, Mary had months at sea after Rio de Janeiro for marriage preparations. The makings of muslin dresses for a midsummer wedding filled her luggage lists. Lucy already had a settlement in the form of a letter from Lord Nelson’s father to Governor King – the same secured land grants for every one of the Pitts.

SIMILAR SISTERS Jane Austen’s fictional Bennet sisters serve as a cheat’s guide to Mary Pitt’s factual family and its fortunes (photo: Pride and Prejudice directed by Joe Wright).

The marriage was granted by special license, an expensive option allowing couples to choose the time and parish of their wedding. Mrs Bennet reveals they were also a status symbol when she encourages Lizzie into one upon betrothal to Mr D’Arcy.

It was in Governor King’s power to grant one, and perhaps the kudos the Pitts received from such a license was elaborated into a stay at Government House?

Before the dust settled on Lucy’s nuptials, Mary was granted one-hundred acres close to the Hawkesbury River. Watched-over by a garrison of redcoats, this small community was not unlike Austen’s fictitious rural Meryton, although at Pitt Farm marriage prospects remained secondary to the production of food until 1804.

By then, Susannah Pitt was thirty and nearly past marriageable age. When pressed by Lady de Bourgh about her age, Elizabeth Bennet pluckily refuses to reveal it. She was barely twenty. Like Lizzy, Susannah had younger sisters at her heels.

The Bennet sisters relied on their father to encourage good matches. In 1804, King wrote to Nelson describing the Pitts as the “object of my care”, which might have extended to fostering connections with eligible single men.

Corporal William Faithfull retired from the militia and started farming before King arrived in the colony. Permission for Susannah and William to wed was granted for November 21, 1804, in Parramatta.

James Wilshire arrived in 1800 and soon began the colony’s first tannery. His wedding on February 12, 1805, made the Sydney Gazette – “Married on Tuesday at Sydney, Mr James Wilshire to Miss Esther Pitt”.

This brings to mind the reporting of more Bennet nuptials – “…it was not put in as it ought to be,” Mrs Bennet complains, “it only said ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without their being a syllable said of her father’”.

Esther Pitt was in the same position, it seems, since her father Robert similarly gets no mention in print.

Flood, famine and civil unrest brought a swift end to the governorship of the Kings in 1806. Governor William Bligh was removed during the Rum Rebellion of 1808. Meanwhile, Jemima Pitt waited five years for a suitable match – these were not times for courtship or marriage. The already-wed got on with the business of producing children.

Cut forward two hundred years and the genetic inheritance of Mary Pitt is gathering for the first time at a family reunion. Most of the older generation speak of “time passing” as the motivating factor in attending. A younger descendent of Lucy Pitt says, only half-joking: “I finally know why I have an irrational fear of water – all those sea voyages”.

When asked about what he thinks of Mary’s courage, a descendent of Thomas Pitt shrugs and tells me with more enthusiasm about opening a family vault in a Richmond cemetery to inter the ashes of his grandmother, only to witness a coffin crumble in the rush of air.

There are group photos, a cake and speeches, and a moment of pure pathos as tribute is paid to Mary Pitt for having the grit to make the journey.

Did Mary achieve what she hoped?

‘Gentility’ was described by poet John Ciardi as “what is left over from rich ancestors after the money is gone”. Whatever Robert did to leave his family in the wonderfully genteel state of ‘reduced circumstances’ is the biggest family myth of all, and remains Mary’s best kept secret.

After the Governorship of Lachlan Macquarie began in 1810, Mary prepared her last unmarried daughter for the journey to Richmond where Jemima married Captain Austin Forrest on April 18th 1810.

But happy times did not last. Jemima and Austin lost their only child, followed soon by Austin’s death after being thrown from his horse on Christmas Eve 1811. Sometime in 1812, John Wood, Lucy’s husband, also died in unknown circumstances.

Within Mary Pitt’s luggage lists on board the Canada was a goodly amount of black crepe, for the purpose of making mourning blacks. It would have been put to good use in that year.

The speed with which Jemima found a new match probably had a lot to do with Mary. Lucy had the distraction of children, whereas a childless widow of marriageable age went against the very grain of gentility.

Barely a year after Forrest’s untimely death, Robert Jenkins was “courting a rich widow”, according to a letter he wrote on November 29, 1812, “young, rather handsome, very good-tempered, a great economist and therefore very desirable … this is at present a great secret”. On March 22, 1813, Robert married Jemima Pitt, so we might assume he was describing her in his letter.

By 1813, Mary was happy to release her only son Thomas for a match of his own. He’d spent a decade making a good name for himself as a farmer on his own land grant. At the age of thirty-two he offered his hand to seventeen-year-old Eliza Laycock, a perfectly genteel age difference.

By the time Mary died in 1815 at the age of sixty-seven, she left thirteen grandchildren in the colony which was soon to adopt the name Australia. Although without her, the family’s gentility faced further challenges.

THE NEW WORLD A detail from Parramatta c.1820 by Joseph Lycett.

Susannah Faithful died in 1820. A year later, William Faithfull and his sister-in-law Lucy Wood applied for a license to marry.

Marrying your deceased wife’s sister was permissible before 1835 unless someone objected, and someone probably did, judging by what appeared in the Sydney Gazette on September 26, 1821.

“William Faithfull of Richmond in this territory maketh oath that he is single and unmarried and under no contract or promise of marriage to anyone except to Mrs Lucy Wood of Richmond, widow …”.

Before the marriage on September 29, the Reverend cancelled proceedings. Perhaps William was bound by another match? Only two months later he married a Margaret Thompson. Things may never have gone so far on Mary’s watch – she would not have tolerated the impact on Lucy’s reputation.

Lucy never remarried and survived all her siblings long enough to regale the first Australian Pitt generations with her journey from Dorset.

The Pitt’s reunion may have unearthed more family myths than it solved, but it would be a shame to rely only on primary evidence and deny a rich oral history that might be surviving snippets of Lucy’s eyewitness account of that journey.

Pride and Prejudice suggests that fallen women be “secluded from the world, in some distant farm-house”. Jane Austen spared Mrs Bennet and her daughters the farmhouse, but they never saw the New World, whereas Mary Pitt’s journey from Austen’s England to Pitt Farm placed her alongside the mothers of a nation.

The Worst Country in the World by Patsy Trench explores Mary’s journey in greater detail.

© Michael Burge, all rights reserved.

PLUCK COVER copyThis article appears in Michael’s eBook Pluck: Exploits of the single-minded.