Brian Rieusset was researching for a book on executioner Solomon Blay when he uncovered 28 boxes of historical files that dated back to 1827.
THANKS to the fastidious bureaucracy of Tasmania’s old colonial authorities, we are blessed with some comprehensive written records from our early European settlement. But what is more remarkable is there are still so many records that we have yet to discover.
Sometimes one of these little treasure troves will be discovered at the back of a dark room, dusted off and opened to reveal all kinds of fascinating new insights into our history.
One such discovery was made recently at the Tasmanian Archive and Heritage Office, which has revealed an unexpected cache of previously unseen documents and relics, which will be of great value to many historical researchers.
A handwritten account from Annie Smith, who cleaned up after the infamous murder of Ellen Sneezewell in Launceston, 1882. Picture: BRIAN RIEUSSET
Containing birth, death and marriage records, old stamps, correspondence from Tasmanian businesses, old coins and even locks of hair, the 28 boxes of files from the Curator of Intestate Estates appear to have been moved from the Supreme Court to the Tasmanian Archives in 1954 and have since been untouched, with records dating to 1827.
They contain files relating to people who died without a will, or whose wills were contested.
Hobart historian Brian Rieusset — a former curator at the Penitentiary Chapel historic site and convict-era history enthusiast — found the rich collection while researching a book. He has a longheld interest in Tasmanian executioner Solomon Blay and was digging for further information on Blay’s wife, Mary, when he struck gold at the archives office.
“There isn’t much documentation about Mary,” he says. “But there was a reference in the Mercury when she died in 1884, in an advertisement from the Curator of Intestate Estates, calling for any creditors. It was a regular advertisement they would put in when someone died without a will. So I asked the library in Hobart, ‘What have you got about the Curator of Intestate Estates?’ They said there was a whole heap of old boxes up there but nobody knew what was in them. They said Mary’s file might be in there. So they came back with this folder full of Mary Blay’s funeral charges and so forth.” Solomon was a heavy drinker so Mary took it on herself to manage the finances, and the bank accounts had been in her name.
When she died suddenly during a bronchitis epidemic, Solomon was left applying for money from her accounts just to pay for her funeral. All of this meant the curator had a hefty file on Mary, including documents about how authorities managed her estate and a funeral receipt bearing Solomon’s signature. Now that Rieusset knew the boxes existed, his curiosity took over: what else was in there?
I started looking through other files in this one box and there were some completely remarkable things in there. And then the archives office told me there were 28 of these boxes.
“I asked for a file on someone else I was researching and this time the library just gave me the whole box to look through,” he says. “That was when I realised how many files there were.
“I started looking through other files in this one box and there were some completely remarkable things in there. And then the archives office told me there were 28 of these boxes.” Rieusset went through every single file and created an index: 1135 names in total, photographing individual items that were of particular interest. The variety of items in the files is remarkable.
When someone died without a will, their death was advertised in all the relevant papers so creditors could apply to be paid for outstanding bills, and family members could apply for a share of the inheritance — if there was any left.
The files contain affidavits, statements of assets and liabilities, legal correspondence, family information and photographs.
In some cases they also include personal items such as diaries — and even a lock of hair sent from a woman in England to her brother in Tasmania as a memento. Some files also include original “free certificates”, official documents given to convicts who had finished serving their sentence. “The people in the archives office knew the files existed because they were listed on the catalogue, but that was all,” Rieusset says. “They had never been looked through and itemised. The files were in alphabetical order and the boxes were numbered 1-28 and that was it.
A lock of hair sent by a woman in England to brother in Van Diemen's Land. Photo: BRIAN RIEUSSET
“The files contain lots of personal items that were sent in by family members trying to prove they were related, things such as photos and the like. And they also include documents from Tasmanian businesses on their original letterheads, and some of those letterheads show old sketches of the buildings where they were based, which are fascinating as well.” Rieusset believes this “treasure trove” will be invaluable to historians and researchers: a person who died suddenly without a will might not be such a genealogical dead-end after all. He even found a connection to his family: a letter written by William Watson.
He was Rieusset’s “children’s great-great-great-grand-father, through their mother”. “Now here I was, probably the first person in 135 years to have opened this envelope and held the handwritten letter from 1881,” he says. “Family history does not get much better.” So if you have even a passing interest in your family history, it might be worth taking a look through the index of names, just in case there is a file in a box containing information about a relative that nobody has looked at in more than a century.
Replies