GEORGE RICHARD

GEORGE RICHARD MOULD

by Anita Stewart 2000

Born 13th August 1866, died 9th April 1954, the eldest child of George Gore Mould and Catherine Reynolds.

George Richard Mould

- Anita Stewart Collection

I was rather pleased when cousin Herb asked me to write this chapter about my grandfather and his family for the forthcoming book about the Mould family, which will be launched at the Mould Reunion in January, of the Year of Two Thousand and Two.

My grandfather married Henrietta Jane Brown in St Paul's Church of England, Cooma, in 1894. They moved into their home called "Nithan" and their 8 children were born there. Bertie Roy, George Victor (Vic), Richard Eric (Eric), Catherine Eileen (Katie) Charles William (died aged 19), Archibald Henry, Walter Reginald (died aged 21) and Elsie May (Ciss).

It would appear that most of the Moulds were farmers, but I am aware that the first Mould to arrive in Australia, George Yonge Mould, was known as a Doctor -Chemist-Veterinarian and Businessman. I often wondered why G.R. (the name bestowed upon my grandfather) was not a farmer and the owner of many acres, but he was in fact a carrier in to-days words.

MARCIA, ETTA, ANITA AND VALERIE

- Anita Stewart Collection

He drove his bullock drawn dray to Cooma and brought out goods and supplies for businessmen especially shop keepers and many requisites for farmers. The trips to Cooma took several days, and then it took time to load up the dray and make the long slow journey back home again. I am not sure how long grandfather did this but a fall from the dray resulted in a badly broken leg for which a doctor had used an iron plate and screws to keep it in place. That ended grandfather's days as a breadwinner for his family.

GEORGE MOULD THE MARKSMAN

- Pattrick Mould Collection

When I was old enough to know who he was; he always walked with difficulty and used a walking stick. I can still picture him leaning on the gate that led to the wood heap, a handsome man with a white moustache smoking a pipe. He always wore a hat when he was outside, and he always wore a waistcoat at all times. His fob watch was in one pocket of his waistcoat and the chain in another. The ever-present plug of tobacco was in his coat pocket and also a pocketknife and Vesta matches. I often wondered as a young child what his thoughts were about, as he would stand there for a long time.

One thing I knew about him was that he was an important man. He was the head of the family and what he said was the law. I consider myself to be very fortunate to live in those years of the extended family. Grandfather and Grandma were very special people and we learned as children to love and respect them, it goes without saying that we also loved and respected our parents a bit more, then our Uncles and Aunts. We were great friends with our first cousins - we had 13, though Arch’s 4 and Ciss's 4 were too young for us to play with.

ERIC MOULD WITH SECOND WIFE STEPHANIE

- Anita Stewart Collection

As small children when we went to visit Grandma and Grandfather we were only to speak when spoken to. If Grandma asked if we would like a biscuit we were delighted and said "Thank You Grandma" and when told to go and play outside we did just that.

At that time children were to be seen but not heard those rules were a bit too hard for me to follow at times. But when we went outside Grandfather always talked to us and always gave us a lolly or two, butter balls or bull's eyes were the go then. It didn't take long for me to decide that Grandfather was the one to be nice to. If I asked him questions he would answer and I liked that.

CATHERINE EILEEN (KATIE)3 MOULD,

XE "MOULD:CATHERINE EILEEN (KATIE)" b. 1901, d. 1978

I would like to add here that I am the second eldest of four daughters, and our Mother was Catherine Eileen Mould (Katie) and she married Leslie Alexander Brayshaw but known by many as Dougie -We are Etta May, Anita Erica, Marcia Kathryn and Valerie. Dad had other names for us -Splinter because Etta was thin; Ginge because I had inherited Grandma's red hair: Fat because Marcia was plump and Possum because when Valerie was little, Dad said she curled up in her bed like a possum.

To my Grandfather I was Ginger Meggs, while to Uncle Vic I was always Cherry. Yes, I answered to many names. My greatest embarrassment was being introduced to the then Premier of NSW, Neville Wran as Skeeter. Yes at school there were many more name and because of Anita I was called by some as Nita Mosquito -then that was shortened to Skeeter. So at Clancy Kingston's testimonial dinner. Gordon Burgess was asked by Clancy to introduce the Premier to as many people as possible. I heard this request as we were close to Clancy so Leigh and I were first to be introduced and Gordon in his casual way said "Neville, I'd like you to meet Leigh and Skeeter Stewart” So you see my standing in society only got me to the bottom rung!

Grandma and Grandfather always attended St John's twice each Sunday and also on other special days. They had brought their family up as Christians so they also attended Church twice each Sunday, and in their younger days they attended Sunday school as well. I have seen photos of my Mother, Ciss and Uncles all decked out in choir robes, so Church played a big part in their lives. Grandfather served as a Councilor and also as a Church Warden for many years. He also rang the Church bell and took up the collection.

My Mother became the Church organist when she was 11 years of age Her first service was the funeral of a friend. I often thought. How terrible that task would have been for her. Mum followed in the traditions set by her parents as she made sure her four daughters attended Church twice each Sunday and also Sunday school. I once asker her how old I was when I went to Church. She replied "Oh about 2 weeks"- Other questions were to follow -"Well if you were playing the organ who nursed me and Etta?” She replied "Grandfather nursed Etta and Grandma nursed you"

"Well who looked after Marcia and Valerie". Mother had a well-rehearsed reply to her inquisitive second child "Oh go out and play"

Now Dad had also gone to Church in his younger days and he had the important task of ringing the first bell andsometimes the second bell also 3 times each Sunday, mostly that was 6 times he had to ring the bell.

ANITA AND MARCIA READY FOR CHURCH

- Anita Stewart Collection

But one Sunday he wanted to go to Jindabyne to watch the local team play there. He asked the Minister for the morning off from his duty but His Reverence said, "No you may not have the morning off as God is more important than any football match". Dad answered "Well you can damn well ring the bell yourself as I'm going to the football". Grandma Brayshaw was told of her son's misdeeds and she promised the Reverend Gentleman that he would not lapse again. But he did make another boo-boo that was to be the last time Dad would go to Church- He had arrived early to light the gas lamps and light the wood heater as well as ring the first bell and Rex Rossiter and Leo Stewart arrived early also. So Rex played the organ for awhile then he went up into the pulpit and delivered a stinging attack on the Rev. who had

CHARLIE AND KATE MOULD

- Anita Stewart Collection

entered the porch and heard every word that Rex was saying. Dad and Leo were in fits of laughter. But their laughter turned to fear when the Rev. Gentleman stood inside the Church. Those three got a tongue bashing, the like of which they'd never heard before. All three were sent home in disgrace, their parents informed and not one of them ever came to Church again, except to give their daughter's hand in marriage, or at other special services.

New Rectors were appointed after each 3 years!

Many Rectors asked Dad "When are you coming to Church Les?" Dad replied "I don't need to as I send 5 representatives and besides I cook the dinner" This he did but disappeared before Mum served it out. I well remember my first Communion, well part of it anyway. Etta and I had been among the confirmees on the Thursday night, and went with Grandfather and Grandma to the 8 am service the following Sunday. I remember the first part of the service but then fainted. I'd never had that happen to me before or after, which I appreciate.

All of the Moulds were involved with the Church back then and it is with pride that I can name my great-great-grandmother, the wife of George Yonge Mould as the lady who laid the foundation stone of the first Church of England Church in Adaminaby. The altar in St John's is in memory of George and Catherine Mould by their children, George, Henry, Maria, Arthur and Walter, 15th December 1907. They were my great-grandparents-

A plaque on the wall behind the organ is In memory of Katie Brayshaw, organist in this Church for 60 years. Plaque placed here by Daniel Dodd and her daughters Etta, Anita, Marcia and Valerie. Daniel Dodd was the Undertaker and he held our Mother in the highest esteem. On the organ is a copper vase inscribed "In memory of Katie Brayshaw from the Church Women's Union 1979"

One thing that I am sorry about is that there is not one Mould headstone in the cemetery at Old Adaminaby. Back then only the rich had headstones and our family of Moulds and Brayshaws were not rich. So buried in our now historic cemetery are Grandfather and Grandma Mould and their son Charlie. One day I must do something to rectify that. As they contributed so much to the Church they loved and worshipped in they do deserve a headstone in such a sacred place.

"Nithan" stood on 8 acres and surrounding the house was Grandma's flower garden, which was one of the best in the Old Town. Grandma loved her garden; to her it was her heaven. Grandfather had planted many English trees around the house and pine trees up the back. Their woodshed cum tool shed was covered in honeysuckle. I can still smell that perfume even when I write about it.

The flower garden was fascinating and Grandma knew the name of every flower, and especially the many roses - the flowers, shrub, etc. were her pride and joy. Grandma was a typical Grandma of those times. She always wore long dark dresses with a colourful apron and her bonnet, of which she had several.

Grandfather's relaxation was his vegetable garden. His bad leg did not impede him from digging the beds for the many and varied kinds of vegetables. Up the top of the vegetable garden were many types of gooseberries, red currant and black currant bushes, as well as plum trees and cherry trees of several types.

He also had an orchard where he had grown many types of apples, as well as pears, peaches and nectarines and more gooseberries.

As children we would always pick the fruit for Grandma as she always used all the fruit for preserving, for bottles of jams and jellies also her specialties - pies, tarts, turnovers, all served with cream. Gosh she was a good cook and I never saw her measure anything, she just put in what she knew was needed. Of course there were pickles, sauces and chutneys galore.

Grandma had never heard of packet mixed herbs, no, all of the herbs were grown in the garden, you name it, she had it. I will always remember this special herb garden as we lived with Grandma and Grandfather at times.

GEORGE RICHARD, KATIE, MARCIA WITH COCKY AND ALAN PYMONT

- Anita Stewart Collection

Though Dad was a carpenter he never found time to build his own house as he was always building homes for other people. So one day I came home from school in much distress, I had a wart on my forehead. Now having red hair and having to wear glasses when I was 7 was bad enough but a WART that was the very end for me. I asked Mum how could I get rid of it, she replied that she didn't know but Grandma said, "Come with me" and I followed her out to the laundry. In the laundry was a "Coolgardie" safe, which Dad had made. It was the precedent to the first fridge, the "Silent Knight" The safe was made of wood with fly proof mesh wire and wet wheat or chaff bags hanging on both sides and covering the door. Inside were shelves for meat, milk, cream, butter etc. Grandma cut off a piece of beef about 1" square and rubbed that on my forehead. I was not impressed by this procedure but when Grandma said again "Come with me", I did. She went into her herb garden, dug a small hole, put in the meat and said as she covered it up, "Now when that meat rots the wart will disappear” I was a doubting Thomas then But it worked - the wart disappeared and I knew that Grandma had indeed performed a miracle! I was overjoyed at her expertise.

When I was 12 we moved from the house we rented from Charlie Brooks and moved into Walter Britt's (it was once the home of Baragry's and before that the home of Alexander and Annie Brayshaw my paternal grandparents).

Anyway we lived quite close to Grandma and Grandfather. We lived there until Mum and Dad were forced to move, as everybody else in Old Adaminaby to this our "New Town".

Some of Grandfather's paddocks were ploughed and sown, and harvesting day was special. We were not allowed near the action but we found places to watch.

Grandfather had three large sheds, one contained a chaff cutter, another was used to store the bags of chaff and wheat and the other was the place for his scythe, as lawn mowers were yet to come on the scene.

Uncle Vic and Archie stored their saddles and other things there and we found it ideal for playing in with Uncle Vic's children, Jean and Moya. Uncle Vic and Archie would always assist Grandfather with these chores, ploughing, harvesting and chaff cutting, killing sheep or the fatted calf.

We girls were never permitted anywhere near the action for chaff cutting, we were told to stay inside or go out in the orchard and play. But we found a good advantage point from where we could watch the proceedings. We were very intrigued by the poor horse that was harnessed to a long pole outside the shed. The horse just walked round and round in circles mostly all day or until all the chaff and wheat were bagged and sewn. We all thought that the poor horse would be giddy and fall over.

GREORGE RICHARD AND HENRIETTA MOULD - Anita Stewart Collection

The chook house was up above the orchard so we often fed the chooks, collected the eggs and we loved to hold the little chickens. Grandfather was no slouch with a rifle either, so no chicken hawk ever took away his chickens, snakes also didn't last long once Grandfather got them in his sights. He had a saying "The only good hawk was a dead hawk" - I thought of those very words after a Federal Election!

Grandma kept the eggs fresh with "water glass" which was mixed with water in a 4 gallon tin or "Keepeg” Grandfather milked the cow and not only was there always lots of milk but fresh cream and homemade butter as well-

Thinking of Grandfather's cow does not rekindle any joy at all for me. Each afternoon two of us would have to get the calf into its pen. Then to me 8 acres was a lot of ground, far too much for my liking. First we had to locate the cow and calf and on a good day we could get them both to go in the direction we wanted them in, only to have the damned calf kick up it's heels and run to a place furthest away from the designated home for the night. That meant another long walk, and it was all up hill, and we'd try again, probably on our third try we'd be successful. But on a bad day it sometimes took us hours to perform this delicate operation, and the 8 acres could turn into 80. We'd be in tears over this, not only would we be very leg sore and weary but also we'd probably have missed out on "Yes What" and that really hurt. Thank goodness there were four of us and we took it in turns. We also had to walk further than Grandfather's 8 acres to gather bark and kindling to light the fires, this was not to my liking either.

ARCHIE'S CHILDREN: ALLAN, JANICE AND IVAN

- Anita Stewart Collection

With one of Grandfather's calves we made a pet out of it. It was such a lovely little calf with 4 white feet, hence it's name, Socks. We would have no trouble at all getting Socks in of an afternoon because we'd just walk up to it, put our arms around it's neck and it would walk where we walked. Not only that but we would stay with it and give it lollies, bananas or bread. We had a great time with Socks, who was also growing up, but we hadn't noticed until its horns grew.

One day to our surprise and dismay, instead of it coming when we called it Socks just looked at us. So we walked up to get it and would you believe after all the love and kindness that the four of us had bestowed upon this beautiful calf it CHASED us. But we knew it was only being playful so when it ran away again we went to bring it back.

We found out it was not being playful, Socks put its head on the ground, pored at the ground, we ran and it ran after us. We did not stop to close the orchard gate either as we did a Cathy Freeman dash to Grandma's laundry and then inside.

This day Dad was there and we told him we weren't getting Socks in because we were too scared.

Now Dad was always patient with us and knowing my fondness of playing the odd joke or two was not overly worried about the circumstances we'd described. We did convince him to come and help us, but not before he'd found the camera as he thought I was just making it up. So out we went and Dad asked why Socks was in the orchard paddock. Dad asked us to go and stand near the calf and he'd take our photo, we were reluctant but walked towards Socks when it charged at us so we raced back and hid behind Dad. He'd just clicked the camera when Socks made a Beeline for Dad and we all ran into the laundry.

Les Brayshaw and Etta
- Anita Stewart Collection

Our usual placid Father went out to show this calf just that was the boss around here. Dad was soon back in the laundry with us. He ventured again with the same result but he called that calf everything he could think of and not one resembled Socks. We were told to go inside which we did rather happily and we didn't have any contact with our pet calf again. I think that Socks went on a short holiday to the butcher.

When we lived on our 10 acres we became the owners of many poddy lambs, well I myself had quite a flock, 12 actually and 2 black ones were among them. We were given these lambs because their mothers had either left them or had died. One day the two youngest of our family Marcia and Valerie were given one each, which they fed and looked after. They were duly named Churchill and Roosevelt as the war was on then. Those girls watched over their charges like the good mothers they were and some months later they were indeed fat lambs.

One day after school they discovered the two lambs missing. They searched everywhere for them but no one had seen them. They were in tears and even I felt sorry for them. They were heartbroken. They found out months later that Archie had killed both sheep and we'd been eating them. There was much anger in our house after that.

It was the custom for Archie and Uncle Vic to be given sheep from the properties they worked on and they were always killed at Grandfather's.

But the thought never occurred to us that that was indeed their fate. Valerie just happened to overhear Archie ask Mum if the girls ever asked what happened to Churchill and Roosevelt. She replied "No, they had no idea” Valerie opened the door and accused Archie of killing the sheep, but he said "No" and he departed leaving Mum to take the heat.

Neither girls ever spoke to Archie again; they never forgave him even though Mum did try to explain we needed the meat. I kept a very close watch over my flock from then on. I wonder whatever happened to them after I'd left home?

One treasured spot at Grandfather's was the tennis court. Mum had said that it used to be used quite a lot when the family was young. There was no TV and radio then. But out of all the places to be found on 8 acres that was my favourite. The flat surface was ideal for hopscotch, hitting a tennis ball, playing cubby houses, especially when Jean and Moya, and Uncle Bert's daughters Joan and Fay came for holidays.

Thinking back our childhood was spent always with girls. There were four of us, Uncle Vic had 2, Uncle Bert had 2, and Uncle Eric had Douglas who was the eldest grandchild, but aged 6 or 8, who waned to play with boys? - Well not us.

Back; Vic Mould, Katie Brayshaw, GR Mould, Henrietta Mould, May Eccleston, Kate Mould.

Front: Wallace Eccleston, Aubrey Gatehouse, Jean Gatehouse, Etta Brayshaw, and Mary Eccleston

- Anita Stewart Collection

But the tennis court was the place for me. One day Fay and I found this lovely little bird that went into a hole in the side of the court. We raced back to the house to ask Grandfather how to catch it.

In all seriousness he told us the only way to catch it was to put some salt on it's tail, then we could catch it. He gave each of us some salt and off we went to catch ourselves a bird. We waited hours - did it reappear again - never. We were very disappointed. It was many years later that catching a bird was a well told myth Grandfather had never let on.

I have some unhappy memories of time spent on Grandfather's tennis court because when Mum would chase me with the strap for some trivial misdeed (if I was the culprit it must have been very trivial) that's where I would run to.

It was quite a distance from the house and I had to run uphill to get there. I would happily stay there always hoping that Mum would forget about the event and I could walk in later without any fear. Such was not the case though as I often found that if anything she'd remembered very well indeed.

I was so embarrassed one afternoon when I ran out the little gate and up past the sheds with Mum, strap in hand after me. Grandfather's neighbour Jack Constance called out to Mum "Why are you running like that Katie", she stopped and said "Oh I'm training for the Snake Gully Cup Mr Constance", he replied "Well I don't think you'll catch her now, she has too big a lead on you” In dismay I heard my Mother reply, "Oh that's O.K, I'll get her when she comes in for tea". Oh the shame of it all!

I liked Mr Constance as he was a nice man and now because of my Mother I wouldn't be able to talk to him anymore. Things worked out better than I imagined though.

On another afternoon I was playing happily out under a big tree in the backyard when Grandfather came along and sat on a chair beside me. We talked awhile then he said he had a suggestion to make. I was all ears. Now it's like this, he said, when your Mother is going to give you the strap, don't run away like you do, just stand there and get hit and it will be all over. Because when you run away she only gets angrier and she hits you more. I thought this was a good idea of Grandfather's and also I'd found an ally. Perhaps he could save. me, because when Dad was home I wasn't allowed get the strap.

I asked Grandfather would he tell Mum not to hit me. I was crestfallen when he replied "Well if you didn't fight with your sisters you wouldn't get the strap". I tried to assure him that I NEVER started the fighting it was always one of the others. He thought for awhile then wisely said "Well I'm not too sure about that, but in future don't run".

I still ran and Mother's rage had not cooled down some hours later. I know now that I deserved all the hits I received, this revelation came to me when I became a Mother myself I would have tried the patience of a saint.

Two of my Uncles, Bert and Vic enlisted in the 1914-1918 War. They fought in France in the battle of the Somme. Uncle Bert lost a leg in that war and Uncle Vic was affected by gas. After watching those battles re-enacted just recently brought back the horror of war to me, and the futility of it. How dreadful it must have been for Uncle Bert to lose a leg - a German had shot him several times in the leg, hence his saying, "The only decent Hun is a dead Hun".

How terrible it was for Grandma to hear that news of her dearly loved eldest son. Uncle Vic suffered bad health when he returned. Uncle Bert was in constant pain.

BERT AND VIC

In Grandma's front room were lots of photos and paintings of her family. I was always struck by the oil paintings of Uncle Bert and Uncle Vic and looked at them often as they both looked so young and handsome in their uniforms. The war was never spoken about by any member of the family. Both Uncles found work when they returned home, Uncle Bert only able to do light work and Uncle Vic worked on a property and was sometimes a drover. Uncle Eric worked in the Post Office and was transferred to Gilgandra then to Sydney. Archie (strange how we never called him Uncle) worked on a property. Charlie and Wally had died young, while Mum and Ciss lived at "Nithan" until they were married.

ANITA AND LEIGH STEWART - 1952

- Anita Stewart Collection

Uncle Bert married Olive West and they moved to Sydney - Uncle Bert finding work at Mark Foys wonderful store as a lift operator. Prior to marrying Leigh Stewart in 1954, each year I would have my holidays in Sydney with Gwen, Leigh's sister, and we would stay sometimes at the C.B.Chambers then at the Arcadia Hotel.

One or two mornings I would go to Mark Foys, find the lift that Uncle Bert was operating and I would go up and stay with him for at least 3 hours. He was always happy to see me and hear news of home.

VIC AND BERT

Uncle Vic married Katy McMillan and they moved into a house behind the Convent. Archie and Ciss were still at "Nithan" so I have lots of memories of them being there. Mum and Ciss were taught to play the piano, and Uncle Bert was in the Adaminaby Brass Band when only a young lad. Leigh has a large photo of the band in his photographic Display and there is my handsome Uncle with his trumpet.

Archie married Mavis Adams and they lived in Adaminaby for many years having a family of 4 children, until Archie had the offer of a job with Thomas Green & Co, and they moved firstly to Mudgee and then to Bathurst.

Ciss married Cliff Eccleston and they remained in Adaminaby and were also forced to move to the "New Town" with their 4 children.

All the Moulds of Grandfather's family have died and it's hard to realise that we are now the "older generation". We have lost all our grandparents many years ago, then our Uncles, Aunts, as well as our parents. Of the four of us Etta was the only one that did not marry, we other three sometimes think that she was the wise one amongst us.

DOUGLAS, PAMELA AND RUSSELL STEWART - Anita Stewart Collection

Leigh and I have three children, Douglas, Pamela and Russell. Douglas is 44; married Sharon Brown and they have 3 children, Jackie 17 and twins Alisen and Kerrie 10. They live in Canberra. Pamela is 42, married to Neil Duncan and they have 2 children, Jennifer 16 and Mark 14. Neil and Jenny live in Charleville, Qld. Pamela and Mark live in Bombala.

Russell is not married and lives in Queanbeyan.

Marcia married Sergio Moro, they have 2 daughters - Sandra 41 is married to Phil Collins, they have one son David 9. Janet 36 is married to Nigel Priest; they have one son James 3. They all live in Queanbeyan.

Valerie married Jack Robertson and they have 3 children - Susan 48 is married to Colin Grainger, they have 2 children Evan 19 and Bronwyn 17, Lesley 45 and John 41 did not marry. Valerie and Jack live in Cabramatta, Susan in Greenfield Park, Lesley and John in Guildford.

A lot of cards was played at "Nithan" and long before I arrived cards were played on a nightly basis. Mum and Dad taught us to play with the exception of Marcia who preferred to knit. We liked to play but were not very serious about the outcome. We played for fun, well we played properly, but there was always lots of laughter and talking and we lost count of who dealt and who went what.

But in our teens Valerie and I began to dread a game of 500 when our Uncles came to visit Grandfather and Grandma. When either Uncles Bert, Eric or Archie would return for their holidays, Uncle Vic would come over and one of us timid young girls would be told by our Mother that after tea one of us had to go up to Grandfathers to make up a 4 or a 6.

We didn't want to go as to Valerie and I this was a fate worse than death -these Moulds did not play for fun, no, they played for sheep stations or for keeps. We'd witnessed such games and they were not to our liking. Upon arrival at Grandfathers I would be so scared I didn't want to open the door, but in I'd go. The men were already seated, one chair empty for the guinea pig - someone would draw to see who dealt, then partners would be chosen by whoever was dealt the first 2 jacks (I always had a word with God that it would be Grandfather and I).

Once that fact was settled then my instructions were given. Uncle Eric was always a no-trump man and I would be instructed that if he went no-trumps, then no matter how high the call I was to call him whatever Ace I had. It was scary stuff I can tell you. By the time it was my turn to play my hands would be shaking so much I could hardly pull a card out. I would have been warned about the dire consequences if I played the right card at the wrong time or the wrong card at the right time, if I did that then mortification would be made manifest unto me. After each hand was played there would be the "post mortem" about what should have happened, what could have happened and what WILL happen should that occur again

I played every card with fear, there was no laughing in games like those where your life depended on how you played. If my partner and I won I was a wonderful player - if we lost, well I didn't wait to be beheaded by an irate Uncle, I was out that door like a shot.

Poor Valerie often returned in tears - so I asked Mum why she didn't go up and play, she always said "Oh no I couldn't, they are too cranky". So being the person that I am I would say "Well why do you make Valerie and I go?" Mum's reply was "Oh that is different". It surely was.

But otherwise things were great. We had a very happy childhood, yes, and a few fights along the way. But I have to feel sorry for Dad, one male with 5 females l! We all learnt to knit when we were young. I was only 4. Wool came in skeins then so Dad was always kept busy - whenever we'd need more wool we'd just say "hold your hands out Dad" and he would, not once, but 5 times. When we all get together we all have a good old laugh about our misdeeds and the great times we had. Not much money, but we never went without food or clothing.

ARCHIE MOULD

- Anita Stewart Collection

If only to-day's children could live like we did the World would be a much better place. But society has changed so much we have to wonder where will it all ends.

Grandfather died in April of 1954, so he wasn't around to deal with the S.M.A., but Grandma was. She was the oldest resident to be forcibly (not physically) moved from the Old Town to the "New".

Can anyone imagine what this move meant to an 87-year-old lady who had lived in the one house since she was married? Her 8 children had been born there, she loved her home, she was looked after by my Mother who lived next to her, and Ciss who visited her on a regular basis. Uncle Vic and Auntie Kate had since moved near Cooma, then Berridale.

She loved her garden and her 8 acres, and just wanted to die in her own home where Grandfather had died just two years before. But feelings and people did not matter to the powers that be then. Adaminaby people were in the road of progress - progress for whom? Well we were told it was for the Nation, it certainly wasn't for us. We were told that we should be proud and happy and the insignificant sacrifice that we were to make was nothing compared to progress that would benefit the Nation.

I think back to those days and wonder IF any of those powerful men would have treated their 87 year old Grandmother in such a cruel manner. When she pleaded that she did not want to go, she wanted to end her days in her home and she didn't want to leave her garden, she was assured that her "new" home would be more convenient and "rest assured Mrs Mould, when you move, your garden will be all laid out for you, all your shrubs, trees and flowers will be there in bloom, it will be wonderful for you". In truth her fibro house proved to be the coldest one in the "new town" - she nearly froze, some of her furniture would not fit in the doors, and as for the garden, well there wasn't a flower, she did not even get a violet plant.

Last year I read a publicity page written by the then S.M.H.E.A. Publicity Officer, Laura Brown, and a portion on my Grandma, written when she was brought out to look at her "new" house. "I must have my dining room table, it holds so many happy memories of my family from when they were very young". Unfortunately the Authority could not get Mrs Mould's table through the front door.

Returning to the Old Town, Mrs Mould, quite livid- by now, took faltering steps to her old home she knew so well. She looked up from the ground to the garden she and her husband had carefully tended. She looked up to the verandah where small children many years before had played. This cottage meant more to Mrs Mould than any new cottage with modern conveniences and gay colour scheme ever could.' Well at least they got that part right.

Grandma's "new" house was one built and lived in by Bill Warner and moved to the new site on 11th February, I957. Grandma moved into the house in July of that year where cracks in the corners of the house caused by the removal of the house brought in the cold winds and even snow. Grandma said that was the coldest she had ever been in all of her 87 years. She died 28th 0ctober,I959.

ETTA AND HER TOYS - 1930

- Anita Stewart Collection

The S.M.H.E.A. sent her Executor the handsome sum of £812. Grandfather and Grandma had lived on 8 acres, with a 3 bedroom house, English trees, beautiful flower garden, 4 sheds, orchard, chooks, tennis court, vegetable garden - a lifestyle they loved and it was worth a mere £812?

Something that I never found in Grandfather was anger. I can truly say that in all the years I knew him I never heard him raise his voice or have anything derogatory to say about another person. He followed the old adage "If you can't say something good about a person then don't say anything". Thinking back he probably had quite a lot to be angry about but kept those thoughts to himself'. He was often in a lot of pain with his leg but complained little or not at all.

CONDITIONAL LEASES

- Pattrick Mould Collection

One day I remember he told me he had toothache. I replied that the dentist from Cooma came out one day each week and that he'd be able to have it out in a few days. He said, "No, it will be out long before that" and he walked outside. Some time later he came back inside and said "Well that will stop it aching", I thought. he had a bottle of "Toothache cure" in his hand. He opened his handkerchief and there was the tooth. In amazement I took a closer look and it was. :

"How did you do that Grandfather" I asked - "With this?” he said, pulling out the pocketknife next to his plug of tobacco. I wanted him to sit down, or was it ME who wanted to sit down, but he said no, he was going to help Grandma clean out the chook house. I thought later that in those days or before, people would have to take their own teeth out. I remember my terror at having to go to Cooma with Wally Tozer for a visit to the dentist and still to day should I see a Dental Surgeon sign displayed I go weak at the very sight.

Grandfather's cures for the flu were Aspros and Buckley's Canadiol. Travelers of various nationalities would call and display their goods - sometimes Grandfather would purchase different pills and potions. "Are they any good?” I'd ask. "Yes" I'd be informed, they work miracles. I asked Dad would these ointments cure EVERYTHING as it said on the label - "Oh indeed, it will cure a wart on a wooden leg and grow one if you haven't got one". My Dad was very wise but I was left to wonder if indeed a wart would grow on Uncle Bert's wooden leg.

BERT MOULD WITH DAUGHTER JOAN

- Anita Stewart Collection

Grandfather was a whistler, not a loud piercing whistle but a whistle you could just hear. When the back door closed we'd hear the whistle and knew it was Grandfather. After he died and I'd go up to see Grandma I could still hear that whistle and one afternoon I was sure I heard the back door shut and then the whistle. I turned towards the door expecting Grandfather

to walk in. Grandma noticed and asked, "Did you hear it too". It took a long time for the whistle to cease.

ANITA STEWART,

MONARO SENIOR CITIZEN OF THE YEAR 1991 - Anita Stewart Collection

Something I always liked about my Grandparents was the mealtimes my family shared with them and we shared many. Grandfather's place was the head of the table with the carving knife and sharpener beside his cutlery. Grandma would bring in the roast leg of lamb or roast beef or pork and place it in front of Grandfather - the dinner plates were placed near the meat dish.

The roast vegetables would be brought in, all in one dish, the greens in another and a gravy boat (jug). Grandfather would sharpen the knife then carve the meat, putting the first serving on the top plate. Whoever was sitting closest would pass the plate to the next person and so it went all the way round the large table to the last person. This would go on until everyone seated had their plate with meat on it then each one would take their portion of vegetables and gravy.

Grandma would then remove the meat carver and sharpener. When that course was finished someone would gather up the empty plates and Grandma would bring in the pudding. I really loved the suet roly-poly with currants, or it could be cherry pie or gooseberry pie. Grandfather distributed the pudding in the same way as the meat, and the large jugs of sauce, custard or cream was in the centre of the table.

They were great times and we were always

allowed to chatter away while the meal was in progress.

It makes me sad to think those times have passed - we now have the quickest meal possible, be it barbecued chook, frozen meals or whatever but it never tastes the same as in Grandfather and Grandma's day.

Both my Grandparents lived a very hard life but they would be the first to say that others were worse off. They were loved dearly by their family, and grandchildren - very few great-grandchildren knew them.

But I'm proud to be a descendant of George Yonge Mould, even if I don't know many of his descendants. I consider myself very fortunate to have been part of George Richard Mould and Henrietta Jane Brown's family. I wouldn't exchange the lifestyle I shared with that family for anything.

Though the Mould family would be a rather large one when and if they were all assembled together, my sisters and I would hardly know any, outside of Grandfather's side. Grandfather always lived in Adaminaby and the only known Mould visitors to "Nithan" were Merry and Reg and they came only occasionally.

As Grandfather never owned a sulky or a motorized vehicle he couldn't travel anywhere.

Herb has informed me lately that he stayed with my Grandparents for some months when he was going to school. I do remember his brothers Noel and Bruce being at school in my time and Noel lived at "Teviot Bank" for some years after his marriage. I recall serving Mr and Mrs F.E Mould when I worked at Stewart’s

CHARLES AND WALLACE MOULD

- Anita Stewart Collection

shop but to me they were Mr and Mrs Mould. I had never ever seen Arthur or Ellen Mould or their son Ron and would not have seen Merle had it not been that Etta and I accompanied Rev. Nagle to a service at the Middlingbank Church, and Mum had told us that the lady who played the organ was her first cousin, Merle. On seeing Merle for the first time I was amazed because she looked so much like Mum.

VALERIE, MARCIA, ANITA AND ETTA 1998

- Anita Stewart Collection

I was the only one of my family to ever see "Arthella" and that happened because our former doctor, Muriel McPhillips was holidaying with Merle about 20 years ago and Merle asked Muriel who she would like her to invite to afternoon tea. Muriel replied Audrey Maxwell and Anita Stewart. So Audrey picked me up and we journeyed to "Arthella" and had a wonderful afternoon.

We have never met with any of our Berridale or Cooma cousins, and though I had heard and read about Boyd Mould I had never seen him until we met at the funeral of a Mrs Snowden, then Leigh introduced me to Boyd and his wife Annita. I did meet George and Leila Mould one day when they lived at "Rockbrook". Leigh and I went there one Sunday afternoon. Leigh always says that I would have met their four daughters during our Y.A. days but I don't recall them at all.

The very sad ending of this chapter is that I could never take my children and grandchildren back to 0ld Adaminaby and show them where I lived, where my Grandparents lived, where I went to Church or where I played hockey.

It is all gone; the town is covered in water, actually dead by drowning, and for the benefit of the Nation. We are left with only memories.

Brayshaw, Leslie

DEATH OF MR LESLIE BRAYSHAW

An Adaminaby resident died at Cooma District Hospital on Wednesday, aged 74 years. Leslie Alexander Brayshaw, of Druit Street, Adaminaby, is survived by his wife Catherine and children Etta, Anita, Marcia and Valerie. His funeral will be held at the Adaminaby Church of England on Friday September 14 at 2 pm after which the burial will take place in the Church of England section of the Adaminaby Cemetery. (Cooma Monaro Express 13.09.1973)

ANITA STEWART WITH KERRI STEWART, MARK AND JENNY DUNCAN, ALISON STEWART AND LEIGH STEWART

- Anita Stewart Collection

Memories of George Richard Mould

My Grandfather

- Marcia Kathryn Moro

I am Marcia Kathryn Moro (nee Brayshaw) a granddaughter of George Richard Mould 1866 - 1954.

What a wonderful man he was! He was a very distinguished looking man with his thick white hair and his very handsome white moustache. He never raised his voice and always spoke in a quiet manner.

MARCIA, SERGIO AND FAMILY

Nigel Priest with son Adam, Janet Priest, Phil Collins Marcia, Sandra Collins and Sergio.

- Marcia Moro Collection

My Grandparents lived at “Nithan” in Old Adaminaby, a three-bedroom cottage with a beautiful flower garden, a large vegetable garden that grew many kinds of vegetables and also every herb imaginable. There was also a huge orchard that produced every type of fruit that would grow in this cold climate and many different kinds of berries. There were lots of gooseberries surrounding the vegetable garden.

There was also the chook yard, cow bail; calf pen, tennis court, barn, many sheds and they completed the picture.

Grandma was an excellent cook and I can still remember her baked dinners followed by one of her fruit pies with lashings of cream.

They were both very hard workers, though Grandfather had a bad limp from a badly broken leg whilst working as a carrier with a bullock dray.

I can still see him leaning over the side gate surveying his realm, puffing on his pipe. Always a twinkle in his eye for you, and one of his often repeated stories about his “younger days”. Of teeth being pullet out with a pocketknife or pliers.

One story that I remember is of a young woman being brought out by horse and buggy from Cooma and some joker giving her some chocolates to eat along the way. The “chocolates” were of course Laxettes very new on the market and I guess mostly unknown by most people at that time. The trip took hours more that it should have, due to the many calls of nature along the way!!!

MARCIA AND SERGIO MORO

- Marcia Moro Collection

Grandma wouldn’t allow a wireless in her house so Grandfather used to come across the road to listen to ours. Finally Grandma gave in and Grandfather bought his own wireless and I think she really enjoyed it.

SERGIO, GRANDSON JAMES PRIEST, MARCIA WITH ADAM PRIEST

- Marcia Moro Collection

Sometimes Mum would send me up with a chook for Grandfather to execute at the woodheap. I hated this chore and pleaded with him not to chop until I had run home and shut the door.

Grandfather had a rifle and a double barrel shot gun. One time I asked him if I could borrow the rifle to go rabbiting with my sister Valerie and her husband Jack. He looked me in the eye and gave me all the reasons why I shouldn’t have it, so I eyed him back and said what careful person I was and how I would carry the rifle over my shoulder whilst walking and climbing fences etc, so in the end I walked home with the rifle and the cartridges which were in a box.

The rifle took pride of place in the corner of my bedroom while the cartridges were placed on my dressing table. I went to work the next day and when I came home both the rifle and the cartridges were gone. I complained to Mum and she told me that Grandfather had second thoughts about lending me the rifle as it had a hair trigger, so both were locked up in his shed. I wasn’t upset, as I could never kill a rabbit anyway. So I spent my time potting bottles and tins.

Grandfather was a warden at St Johns Church where he rang the bell and took the plate around.

I was away on sick leave when he died so I missed saying goodbye to him. But as the song goes “You are the Wind Beneath my Wings” suit him to a “T” and I bet that my three sisters and my many cousins would agree.

THE ROBERTSONS

Susan and son Evan, Jack, Valerie, Lesley and John.

- Marcia Moro Collection

MY MEMORIES OF GEORGE RICHARD MOULD

MY GRANDFATHER - Ron Eccleston

He was an old, and with a crop of white hair and a handsome big moustache and it was even whiter than his hair. He always used a walking stick as he had a really bad leg, in his early days he had been a teamster and had a fall from his wagon at Pine Valley and a wheel crushed his leg. The doctors had inserted a plate, he was in pain nearly all the time but he was still very active.

ELSIE MAY ECCLESTON WITH REG AND RON

- Anita Stewart Collection

He and Grandma had a small farm, a lovely old home, and beautiful gardens and a bit orchard.

He would milk the cow and separate the milk, that was done in the washhouse and you needed a copper of hot water to wash the separator.

During March Grandfather and Grandma would make a copper of soap and as it began to set Grandfather had a little tool that would cut it into bars.

They always had a very good vegetable garden and as I grew bigger I would help him by mainly digging and weeding. In this garden he grew everything and he pitted the potatoes, carrots and parsnips and always had onions hanging in sheds.

He grew a crop of wheat and oats every year and Tom Booshand ploughed and Grandfather used to sow the seed by hand and it was so even as it took him a long time to do this due to his leg being so bad. Sometimes he would get help when it started to grow.

He would take me and his 410 gun to get a hare or two as they like his crop also, he was a very good shot and nearly always we would have baked hare or hare soup for our tea.

When the crop was ready to cut he would get Ray Reynolds (I think) to cut it. We all helped stook the sheaves and then cart them for the chaff process. He had a three in one shed, first for the wheat and oats were threshed for seed and then cut for chaff. Outside the shed a horse was hooked up to a pole which was 12ft long and the horse would walk around and this caused a set of gears to turn the shaft that in turn drove the two bladed wheel that was set on a table type set-up. Grandfather would feed the wheat into where the blades would cut it into chaff (always a half long) and that would go down a chute to the bagger. Most labour was paid for with chaff and seed.

VALERIE, ETTA, ANITA AND MARCIA

- Marcia Moro Collection

Grandfather was very good with a scythe and sickle and he would cut the grass around the house to about two inches long and always so neatly done. In autumn he would get Roy and Ted Gatehouse to bring two loads of wood, which would be 12 to 18 feet long. After school and at weekends I would go over and help him cut it up and we would use a peg and raker saw on the big stuff and axes on the smaller ones.

He also had a grindstone and I’d turn and he would sharpen his old axes.

His orchard was the best one in town and he had the lot. Alex Wares turkeys would come over and take to his gooseberries and he would hobble around waving his walking stock at them. He and Grandma had a beautiful big flower garden and every garden was surrounded by white stones and they kept it so neat and tidy. Occasionally he would shoot a snake or two in it.

He always smoked, and in my day he smoked cigarettes, the hand rolled variety, but one day he purchased a mechanical roller and it was his pride and joy. He was always dressed cleanly and always wore a waistcoat, topcoat and officer boots. When he became unable to walk to church each Sunday with Grandma the Rector would come and give them communion once a week.

RON AND JOSIE ECLESTON

- Anita Stewart Collection

Towards the end of his life Doctor Muriel McPhillips would come and dress his leg for him as it had deteriorated so much.

On the day that he died I was there with other members of his family and he asked God to forgive him and help him, he didn’t need any of that.

I still remember this lovely old gentleman in his waistcoat and topcoat having a quiet cigarette.

Ron Eccleston
Allan Mould Collection

Written by one of his grandsons Ron Eccleston.

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CLIFTON ECCLESTON DEATH

The funeral of the late Clifton James Eccleston, of Druitt Street, Adaminaby, was held on Monday, August 4.

Mr Eccleston died on August 1, at Cooma District Hospital, aged 64 years.

He is survived by his wife Elsie and children Ronald, Reginald, Wallace and Marie.

The funeral service was held in St. John's Church of England, Adaminaby after which the burial took place in the Church of England section of the Adaminaby cemetery

Contributed by Sharryn McWilliam

The George Richard Mould Family as she see it

George Victor Mould Born on 17^th April 1897 and – married – Catherine McMillan born on 12^th April 1893 and married on 19^th July 1922

His Parents were Thomas Andrew Serong born 19/11/1903 and Isabella Wilena Serong born 3/5/1905

She married Terrence William Orr McWilliam on 3^rd October 1969 at Beverly Hills NSW

They had three sons Listed in order of age and there additional family's to date