"Adelaide is a thoroughly modern town, with all the merits and all the defects attaching to novelty. It does not possess the spirit of enterprise to so adventurous a degree as Melbourne, but neither does it approach to the languor of Sydney." - R. Twopeny, 1883

Thursday 20 December 2012

Long time, no blog AND a question for you

Sorry to have so long between posts, but I've been having some computer issues and I'm now sharing a computer with 3 other people - fine for checking emails but not so great for hours of research!
When I'm able to properly research again, I'm planning a post about someone who I believe was grossly overlooked in Tony Robinson's 'Time Walks' (of Adelaide). It was great to hear about Mary Lee and Ebenezer Ward (I very nearly wrote 'Scrooge'!) but there were a few other people involved in women's suffrage in SA.
As always, I'm taking 'requests'. If you have a question/query about SA history, let me know by commenting below and I'll try my best to answer it.
Before I go, I have a question for you: what do you think a 'saddling paddock' is? Answer in the comments below :)

Tuesday 27 November 2012

Adelaide: Then and Now

I was just checking the news on AdelaideNow and this article caught my eye.

It shows beautiful panorama shots of Adelaide streets from 1936. I love how so many buildings are still standing, although it was a bit sad to some of the less-than-attractive modern buildings were once cute Victorian terraces. I particularly liked the Hindley Street photo - the buildings are exactly the same, but instead of a Coffee Palace in 1936, 2012 has an 'adult book shop' and takeaway food. The Rundle Street East photo is probably the most interesting, with two-storey buildings in 1936 where a road is today.


Sunday 25 November 2012

Proper link to Bloglovin'

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Fenn Place {Part 2}

It’s time for another instalment of the history of Fenn Place, this one focusing on opium.

As early as 1841, just five years after South Australia was settled, South Australian newspapers warned readers about the effects of opium (“at the opium shops in Constantinople”): “A stupor, which lasts about eight hours…is attended by a gnawing of the stomach, but none of that nausea consequent upon the use of vinous or alcoholic drinks. The intoxication of this drug produces an utter listlessness and dislike to everything around the individual who cannot be happy or easy until he returns to the poison again. At length the appetite for food is destroyed, the mind becomes incapable of pursuing any study, the nervous system is quite unhinged, there is a sort of delirium tremens, the muscles become indolent and flaccid, and almost incapable of obeying volition. The body becomes deformed, the chest grows out, the ribs are crooked, one shoulder get higher than the other, the vertebrae are displaced and sunken, the head falls on one side, and all kinds of horrible contortions and distortions take place, until death puts an end to the miserable existence of the opium-eater...The Chinese opium-smoker, on whose countenance the love of opium is written, becomes decrepit in early life, his skin appears like parchment, and if but 25 years old, looks full twice that age, and all the results of opium-eating becomes his lot.” (Southern Australian, 24 August 1841, p. 4)

By the 1870s, opium eating was ‘added to the vices which already hold sway over so many thousands of our fellow-colonists in Australia’. Opium was sent from Hong Kong to Sydney ‘for consumption by the lowest class of European females in that colony’ and ‘it has been rumoured that in Melbourne the fallen women who have sunk to the lowest depths of infamy by illicit intercourse with the Chinese have for some time been in the habit of taking this deadly drug.’ (South Australian Chroncile and Weekly Mail, 14 August 1875, p. 5).

In 1879, Alfred Hughes, a forty-six-year-old storekeeper from Sturt Street, died from opium poisoning – he probably took laudanum before he died. In fact, most cases from Adelaide involving opium poisoning were from people taking laudanum. Opium dens were not very common in Adelaide, although they did exist.

Fenn Place was connected with opium in the early 1890s and in 1912 – a Japanese man residing in Fenn Place died from opium poisoning in October 1892 and a Chinese man was arrested for receiving a parcel of Chinese potatoes concealing two tins of opium from 3 Fenn Place. (South Australian Register, 26 October 1892, p. 6; The Register, 22 August 1912, p. 5).

In the early 1900s, there were an estimated 50 opium dens in Adelaide, mostly in the side streets and alleys of Hindley Street, but it soon fell out of favour. This might be due to the huge cost – the customs officials cracked down on the illegal importation of opium, which made it increasingly difficult to import and, therefore, very expensive in Adelaide – about £5 an ounce by 1928.

In 1928, it had been fifteen years since an opium den had been raided by the police in Adelaide, but a photograph depicting a ‘typical scene’ in a Chinese opium den was published in The Register. It, and the accompanying article, can be viewed HERE. In the accompanying article, the journalist wrote that “within half a mile of the very heart of Adelaide there exists a Chinese opium den, probably the only survivor of many similar “joints” which jostled each other in the west-end about 25 years ago”. The den was known only to Chinamen, according to this article, and it was an unassuming building somewhere in the west end. ‘With rough concrete walls and floor, and plain wooden benches, the scene of the night’s entertainment is distinctly squalid and the atmosphere “could be cut with a knife.”’ In the early 1900s, non-Chinese men were using opium dens, which was considered ‘the worst evil’ by society at the time, but it was intimated that the opium dens of the late 1920s were used exclusively by Chinese people.

There were two raids on opium dens in Adelaide’s west end – Hindley Street and Fenn Place – in 1928 and 1929. In both cases, the men arrested for being in possession of opium were Chinese and cabinet makers. The Hindley Street opium den was in the Hooker’s Building on the southern side of Hindley Street and west of Morphett Street. If my sense of direction is correct, Hooker’s Building is still standing. This could be the opium den featured in the Register a few months earlier.

At 1pm on 1 December 1929, five detectives raided a two-storey house in Fenn Place. They seized a large quantity of opium, two opium pipes, and several lamps and trays. They also arrested a 46-year-old cabinet maker, Ah Fin, with having been in possession of opium. ‘The atmosphere in the house was said to be pungent with opium smoke’. The house, a two-storey structure, was very dark inside and the police used torches and matches to search. They also seized four bottles of Chinese liquor. Being in possession of opium was illegal because it was a prohibited import, but it was not an offence to be in possession of opium if it was not imported. The case against Ah Fin was dismissed at the Adelaide Police Court because it could not be proved that the opium had been imported. The deputy Government Analyst, Mr. W. T. Rowe, told the Court that he once made opium from poppies growing in his garden at Woodville, therefore proving that it was possible to make opium in South Australia (The Register/News Pictorial, 2 December 1929, p. 25; The Register/News Pictorial, 4 December 1892, p. 2; Chronicle, 5 December 1892, p. 3).

Intersection of Hindley Street and Morphett Street, facing north. Photograph taken in October 2012 from outside the 1928 opium den.
I have two more articles on Fenn Place planned, and hope to have them up later in the week.

Monday 12 November 2012

The History Girl now on bloglovin

If you're on bloglovin, you can now follow The History Girl. A proper link will follow soon...once I've figured it out!


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Thursday 25 October 2012

Fenn Place {Part 1}

Fenn Place, 2012
Fenn Place is now a walkway through UniSA City West. It runs between North Terrace and Hindley Street and has a cafe and some university buildings, including one of the largest collections of Hawke-era memorabilia. Basically, it's an ordinary university thoroughfare. 

In the 1800s and early 1900s, it was the place to be...if opium dens, sly grog shops, thievery and the occasional shoot-out were your thing! 

I found a surprisingly large amount of information about Fenn Place, so I've decided to split into several posts, each focusing on a different aspect of life in Fenn Place. This one is about the Salvation Army Women's Shelter. 

The Salvation Army was active in the West End of the city throughout the late 1800s/early 1900s - the first Salvation Army Hall in Australia was built in Light Square in 1880. The Army ran several homes in the city - a Rescue Home in Gilbert Street; a maternity home in Carrington Street; a children's home in Norwood, among others. The Women's Shelter was originally in Rosina Street, but it moved to Fenn Place in about 1907 when "the gradual development of that quarter into a business street and the removal of many poor families to localities farther west induced the Army authorities to seek new premises in the western part of the city." (The Advertiser, 10 September 1909, p. 8). In 1907, The Advertiser referred to the Rosina Street shelter as a 'Slum Post' and admitted that Rosina Street was once one of the "lowest quarters" of the city, but had since become a respectable business thoroughfare so the Army decided to move further into the slums. Fenn Place is only about 600m west of Rosina Street, which only goes to show the vast differences in streets within Adelaide's Square Mile.


An old 2-storey building on Fenn Place
(Honestly, I don't know the history of this building - it just looks pretty)
The Women's Shelter was a two-storey building with seven beds - three upstairs at 6d. a night and four downstairs at 3d. a night. Its intention was to keep women off the streets at night and, perhaps, seeking a bed through 'immorality'. It was available only to women and they could not arrive before 5pm and had to leave by 8am. If they asked to stay the night on Saturday, they were allowed to stay until Monday and were given Sunday lunch. If the women wanted a meal, they received a cup of tea and a "big" slice of bread for a penny. Adjutant Scott, who ran the shelter in 1909, admitted that women did not always pay. Some women slept there regularly and paid regularly, but others "only promise to do so. You see, we take them in, and in turn they take us in, but still we are not hard, and again and again the same thing happens."

The "best" of the women earned money and meals with domestic work, and Adjutant Scott could not say how the others occupied their time. Life at the Shelter was not easy, for the volunteers who ran it and the women who lived there. "There are some dreadful characters among them, and they abuse us horribly when, because there is no vacant bed, we are compelled to refuse them admittance...As you can see the place is kept clean and fresh, and I assure you it is not a nice undertaking to have to clean the dormitories after they have been occupied by some women, who are as unpleasant in their habits as it is possible to be." The Salvation Army volunteers (known as "Slum Post girls" in 1907) wore wide-brimmed hats and white aprons with 'For His sake' emblazoned in red on their chests. These girls supplied food, cleaned houses and cared for children if the parents were unwell, as well as supervising the women at the Shelter and organising their meals. They moved about 'the lowest parts of the city', but were never "interfered with" or "insulted". (The Advertiser, 27 June 1907, p. 6)
The same old 2-storey building on Fenn Place
The Shelter also distributed food to needy families and, in 1909, there were about thirty families receiving assistance. They received bread and vegetables sourced from market gardeners who were "exceedingly good to us. When vegetables are plentiful they are generous indeed, and the poor people at this end of the city should be grateful, as we are, to the growers who present large parcels of their produce to us weekly."Since the Army did not "wish to be taken advantage of", officers visited the homes of the people asking for assistance and made enquiries as to "his other habits, and so forth". 

Saturday 20 October 2012

An apology, a TV recommendation, and a list

I'm sorry for not blogging for awhile and leaving you hanging with the photo from the last post.

It's Bonython Hall at the University of Adelaide on North Terrace and, unfortunately, I don't actually have a post for it right now! HERE is a photo of it when it was first built and HERE is some brief information about its history. I love that Bonython wanted it to have sloping floors so people couldn't dance there!

I feel like all I do lately is make apologies for not being able to do anything besides uni work, but the year's almost finished and then I'll have plenty of time to write here!

Have any of you been watching Tony Robinson's Time Walks? Adelaide is the last episode and I can't wait to see where he visits!

For now, I have a list of some Adelaide history questions that have been running around my head for a couple of weeks and, I'm sure, will be answered here at some point:
1. Why is there a statue of Robert Burns outside the State Library?
2. What was on the State Library site (the new building with the glass front) before? I know there was the library built in the 1960s, which was demolished for the new library, but what was there before that?
3. What was on the UniSA City West site before UniSA City West? I know it has street names (George Street, Fenn Place, Register Street), so I assume it had houses - I've done a little bit of research into this already and, let me tell you, it's pretty juicy. 


Corner of Fenn Place and North Terrace: I have a feeling this little angel face could tell some amazing stories if they could talk!

Monday 17 September 2012

Have a photo...

I was going to do a post today, but Trove is down so that's that.

Have a photo instead :)

It's a clue about the next post...

If you guess what the building is, make a comment. There's no prize for a correct guess, sorry, but there's no penalty for an incorrect guess, so that's nice. :)



Tuesday 4 September 2012

PS: Suggestions

If you have any more suggestions, let me know! You're welcome to comment as 'Anonymous' but you can leave a first name if you want, just so I don't have to keep writing 'the person who suggested...'! Thanks! :)

Little House on Payneham Road

A few weeks ago, someone commented on this post that they wanted to know what the building at these coordinates [34.9152263 S , 138.62305790000005 E] was. I haven't had time to visit in person, but I looked it up on Google Maps and I could just make out some words at the top:

Heating and Water Systems Installed / Gasfitter and Drainage Contractor

The person who commented thought it might have been a general store or even the remains of an old mortuary. No such luck, I'm afraid.

I looked it up in Sands & McDougall's South Australian Directory. The earliest ones were a little too vague to be particularly helpful, so I started with 1901. There weren't many buildings on Payneham Road between Baliol Street and Marlborough Street and I'm as sure as I can be that it was...a plumber's and gas fitter's shop!

In 1901, David Bell - plumber and gas fitter - was listed as living there. In 1918, he was still there and it was now known as '13 Payneham Road'. By 1946, David Bell, plumber, lived at 15 Payneham Road and 13 Payneham Road was the Central Provision Store (but I think the street numbers must have changed...or he could've moved next-door). 

I then went back to 1891 and there were only five listings for Payneham Road between Baliol and Marlborough Streets, and none of these were for gas fitters or plumbers. There was a boot maker, a woodyard, a storekeeper, the East Adelaide Timber Company and Mrs. John Penaluna - who actually lived there until at least the 1940s. 

So, there you are. Not a mortuary, although it might have been a general store but it was most probably a plumber and gas fitter's shop. Of course, there could have been a mortuary on the site in the 19th century; I'll have to do more research before I can totally rule that out.

If you want to look at Sands & McDougall's (and, I mean, who doesn't?! Actually, no, it really is quite interesting!), the State Library has a few of them in their Family History collection. 


Friday 10 August 2012

I found the Ship Inn!


I found the Ship Inn…

Remember Sophia? She was the one who gave birth in a hen house in a garden on Currie Street. Earlier in the morning, she'd had a nobbler of brandy at the Ship Inn and the hen house was next door. I had never heard of the Ship Inn before learning about Sophia. It wasn’t the name of any pub I knew in Adelaide. I looked on the digitised newspapers, but ‘Ship Inn’ disappears soon after Sophia’s time and I couldn’t find anything else. Until I found this.

It's a bit small, but part of it says: "Going through Light Square, which at this time [1860s] was occupied by fallen women, we pass a number of cottages until we arrive at The Ship Inn, now the Bedford. A little farther on were a number of cottages and a large block of land, and so we come to Gray street." The author clearly ignored North Street, or it didn't exist at the time. 

This article popped up when I searched for ‘Currie Street’ (I guess ‘Ship Inn’ didn’t read well on their search engine). So, by World War I, it had been renamed the ‘Bedford’. So, I did another search for Bedford Hotel, Currie Street and found a photo from 1891, some ten years after Sophia’s time. I won’t post the photo here, as it’s under copyright and I don’t want to get in trouble(!), but the link is here [opens in a new window] if you want to look at it yourself. I think it looks quite nice. The caption underneath reads: “Currie Street, north side, right side of the Bedford Hotel is 2 yards west of Elizabeth Street and frontage is 15.5 yards”.

Two yards west of Elizabeth Street (estimated, of course. I didn’t bring a ruler with me) is now…not a hotel. Unfortunately, I couldn't take a photo because the building is being renovated and there were fences up. I did get a photo of the side of the building, though. The wall is made of stone and looks old - who knows what it could tell us if it could talk?!

Mrs. Gearing, the woman whose hen house Sophia gave birth in, lived next to the Ship Inn. I found this carpark on Elizabeth Street – maybe this was where Sophia’s baby was born? Maybe not? If Mrs. Gearing lived on the other side of the Ship Inn, Sophia might have given birth in this carpark. 
All I can say is there’s a lot more than meets the eye. There are buildings in Adelaide that look old and look like they could tell a lot of stories, but this one – at first glance – is not one of them.

When the weather is a little nicer, I'm going to explore more of the west end and take lots more photos. Until then, have a photo of Light Square...just because. [You can see how dark and miserable it was - this is the middle of the day!]

Wednesday 1 August 2012

Suggestions, anyone?

Hey all,
I haven't posted anything for a while - I've got a couple of ideas in the pipeline, but they're going to take a while so I apologise.
In the meantime, if anyone has any suggestions as to what I should write here - or what you want to read/see here on the blog - I'm open to them! I'll research/write anything, as long as it's SA-based. Please comment below if you have any ideas.
Thank you!

Tuesday 29 May 2012

Ursula


I’ve been trying to think of something nice to write on the blog, and this is as close as I’ve got so far. It’s still keeping to the generally sad theme of the blog, but with a little twist.

In the early 20th century, the Destitute Asylum housed two groups of people – young (generally unmarried) mothers and elderly people. There was one exception – Ursula Curran, aged 18.

Ursula Curran was born at the Destitute Asylum in 1886. Her mother, Mary, was unmarried. On 25 April 1887, Mary was brought before the Magistrates’ Court and fined 10s for drunkenness. She appeared in court with a babe-in-arms, Ursula, who was deemed neglected and sentenced to the Industrial School until she reached eighteen. Mary was not unknown to the Magistrates and had spent a month in gaol whilst pregnant with Ursula for stealing.  
On 19 September 1904, an article appeared in The Advertiser:

A LEGLESS GIRL IN DISTRESS
A girl who has lost both legs is at present residing at the Destitute Asylum, and her case is a sad one. The unfortunate girl is Ursula Curran, aged 18. She had been under the care of the State Children’s Department since infancy, and as she could not be boarded out to domestic service in the ordinary way, she was passed over to the care of the Destitute Asylum, where she will remain for the rest of her days unless some charitably-disposed persons come to her assistance. When the girl lost her legs, through disease rendering amputation imperative, she was 11 years of age, and lately wooden legs have been supplied to her. As these are jointless she cannot get about with any degree of comfort. It has been suggested that a fund might be raised to provide her with jointed artificial limbs, and with a sewing machine. She is fond of dewing and fancy work, and with the suggested artificial limbs, she could get about fairly well, and could do light housework. Possibly some kindly-disposed household might find room for her if she were provided with the conveniences mentioned. It seems hard that a bright young girl should be compelled to consort with very old people for the rest of her life when a few pounds would assist her to leave the Destitute Asylum. Subscriptions sent to The Advertiser office will be acknowledged.


The Advertiser aimed to raise £40 for the Ursula Curran Fund, which was meant to cover the cost of her artificial legs, a sewing machine and a new outfit. “When these objects are attained steps will be taken by The Advertiser to secure a comfortable home, where Miss Curran could reside and provide for her maintenance by doing the family sewing.” Within a week, F. Dietrich provided Ursula with a set of artificial legs at cost and gave his profit to the Fund. The following day, a representative of The Advertiser went to Mr. Hugo Wertheim’s sewing machine and piano establishment to enquire into costs for a sewing machine. The manager, Mr. Phillips, “without a moment’s hesitation”, donated a latest model Wertheim machine in an act of “spontaneous charity”.
One other particularly sweet donation was from ‘Jessie’ of Modbury. She wrote: “To the Editor.
“Sir – Please, I am forwarding to you 10/ that I have collected to help our poor crippled friend, Ursula Curran. I hoped to have got more, but I am not old enough to go far, as I am only 10 years, but I think all us little ones who have two legs ought to help a poor girl who has none. I am, &c.
“Your little sympathiser, Jessie. Modbury. October 4, 1904.”
A ‘comfortable home’ for Ursula was organised by Archbishop O’Reily and she left the Destitute Asylum on 8 October 1904. An Advertiser representative drove her to her new home in the suburbs. At the time, the Fund had raised £28, 2/9. Leaving the Destitute Asylum, Ursula said: This is the happiest day of my life. I shall never be able sufficiently to thank those who have helped me leave the Destitute Asylum. I should not like to live there all my life.
Concerts and school fundraising events were held to raise money for Ursula and by March 1905, the Fund had raised 62 8/11 and a Savings Bank account was made in Ursula’s name with 40 17/11 (the other money being used to buy her clothes).
Fourteen years later, in January 1919, another Ursula Curran Fund was established to replace her artificial limbs as the ones she was using at the time were too heavy and hurt her shoulders (I assume she had to use crutches). It was instigated by Bertha Owen, late matron of the Convalescent Hospital, Semaphore. They needed 40 for the new limbs and the amount was raised by March 1919. The new limbs were made by Mr. Ferris of Gouger Street.
And that’s all I know about Ursula. In 1919, she was thirty-three years old. I haven’t been able to find a death notice for her, so she could have lived beyond 1954 (the latest the newspapers are available online). Her story is by no means happy, but I think it’s rather sweet how many people helped her to live her own life away from the Asylum.
The Advertiser, 29 January 1885 – 10 March 1919

Friday 25 May 2012

Off-topic: Queen Victoria's Journals

For Queen Elizabeth's diamond jubilee, Queen Victoria's journals have become available online through the Royal Archives. You can view them for free for a short time (I'm not sure how long) and if you have a  couple of spare hours, I recommend a viewing. They can be found here.

South Australia was founded just before the beginning of Queen Victoria's reign. The first British settlers of South Australia arrived in late 1836 and Queen Victoria ascended to the throne in June 1837.
Adelaide was named after her aunt, Queen Adelaide (Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen - like most of Queen Victoria's family, she was German), and King William Street was named after the reigning monarch at the time, Queen Victoria's uncle, King William IV. Victoria Square was named when she was still Princess Victoria. **Did you know: the streets in Adelaide change names when they hit King William Street because they were all named after commoners and a commoner cannot cross the path a monarch. So Currie Street becomes Grenfell Street, Hindley becomes Rundle etc. I can only guess that Victoria Square is in the centre because she and King William were both royal.**

King William IV had a mistress, Dorothea Jordan, with whom he had ten children, but none of them could be king or queen as they were illegitimate. Just imagine if he had married his mistress, Adelaide could have been called 'Dorothea'!! Dorothea, South Australia just doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?


Wednesday 9 May 2012

About This Blog

Hello reader, 
This is a quick post to explain the motivation behind this blog.
Firstly, the majority of the information on this blog comes from newspapers. I know the limitations of using newspapers as historical documents (including bias and the kinds of stories reported in them - like there's unlikely to be a newspaper story about a family having dinner or something incredibly mundane like that) but newspapers are also incredibly useful. They give an insight into the kind of information people were exposed to - like how court cases were reported verbatim in daily newspapers, including divorce hearings (you just don't get that anymore!) and they present the news. Also, newspapers are easy to access. The National Library of Australia has a vast collection of digitised newspapers, which are easy to navigate and accessible from home. 
I have a collection of South Australian history books, which are very useful and informative, but they don't really go into the everyday lives of people. Being a blog, I'm not restricted by academic writing style or a thesis question - I can write about anything and everything, and anyone and everyone. I want people to learn about the people who are not written about anymore. 
I'm doing this blog partly to educate people about different aspects of South Australian social history - the aspects that aren't extensively written about - but also for my own amusement. Researching and learning about history is a little like being a detective. I get excited when I learn something new and love getting to the bottom of a story. I'm also doing this blog because I enjoy writing, and I know that if I want to continue writing I have to let people read my writing!
So, thank you for reading. 



Friday 6 April 2012

Meet Sophia...

Sophia Thomas is probably the most notorious and fascinating person I’ve learned about so far. Throughout her colourful life, she was known as a ‘neglected child’, a ‘little girl’, an ‘old offender’ and an ‘immoral character’. She was the child of an abusive alcoholic, a teenage prostitute and a product of the government’s reformatory system. She was constantly before the courts in Adelaide and the Port for prostitution, drunkenness and generally bad behaviour when she was years younger than I am now. I’ve wanted to write her story for so long, but couldn’t figure out exactly how to do it. Finally, I’ve decided to let the facts speak for themselves and do a timeline. It covers a little over 10 years of her life, and all the information comes from newspaper articles about court hearings. But first, some information that will probably be useful:
Boddington’s Row was a row of houses near Light Square, between Hindley Street and Hawden Street. They were ‘filthy hovels’ and were rented cheaply by prostitutes from Thomas Boddington, who ran a notorious hotel in Light Square (which is now the Colonel Light Hotel). In 1879, the women of Boddington’s Row were cast out and they set up camp by the River Torrens, in an area nicknamed ‘The Willows’. The ‘Willow class’ became a euphemism for prostitutes who frequently walked the streets and were often drunk.

November 1874: 12-year-old Sophia Thomas was sentenced to the Industrial School for being a ‘neglected child’. Her mother, Frances Thomas, was charged with ‘allowing her child to become chargeable to the public’ (i.e. not providing a safe home). The Police Court heard that Frances was ‘of very drunken habits’. Sophia often slept in outhouses, water closets and ‘such places’ because she was too afraid to go home. Frances was sentenced to prison and her three-year-old daughter was allowed to go with her.
The Advertiser, 12 November 1874, p. 3

July 1877: Sophia Thomas, Ann Conroy and Eliza Smith, little girls, absconded from the Reformatory School by unscrewing the screws on their bedroom door and climbing over a seven foot high fence. They had been sent there for robbery, loitering, and for being a neglected child (although it is not clear which girl committed which crime). It was intimated that Conroy was the ringleader and she threatened to “run away again or break her neck in the attempt” if she were returned to the School. They each received a punishment of bread and water at the School, but Sophia and Eliza Smith were sentenced to two months’ imprisonment (I can only guess at the Reformatory School and not the gaol) for destroying blankets. Sophia also received an extra two months’ with hard labour for stealing a wincey dress valued at 7s, property of the Government. In the newspaper article about the girls’ court appearance, the last sentence reads: “The girls…very much liked the excitement of appearing before the Magistrates”.
The Register, 3 July 1877, p. 3

December 1877: Sophia Thomas, with Margaret Case and Elizabeth Alderson, was charged with ‘loitering &c’ at the Port Adelaide Police Court. She was sentenced to seven days’ imprisonment.
The Advertiser, 14 December 1877, p. 7

March 1878: The same three above women, and Kate Brown, were fined 10s and 5s costs at the Port Adelaide Police Court for loitering in St. Vincent Street. On 28 March, Sophia was arrested yet again for loitering. As she was a repeat offender, she was sentenced to gaol for a month.
The Advertiser, 11 March 1878, p. 3; The Advertiser, 1 April 1878, p. 3

May 1878: On 3 May, probably the day after she was released from gaol, Sophia was arrested for loitering in Port Adelaide with Mary Arthur. Sophia was fined 20s and Mary Arthur, 10s. On 30 May, Sophia, Elizabeth Sebelan and Elizabeth Lowther were charged with ‘indecent and riotous behaviour on Maclaren Wharf [sic].’ These three girls were frequent offenders, incorrigible and had been sentenced to gaol for similar offences so, therefore, were sentenced to Gaol for one month with hard labour. “Defendants on receiving sentence rushed out of the Court to the cells shouting and yelling like maniacs, and kept up a hideous uproar for a considerable time.”
The Register, 4 May 1878, p. 3; The Register, 31 May 1878, p. 3

July 1878: Sophia Thomas and Elizabeth Lowther were charged with loitering &c in St. Vincent Street. They both plead not guilty and promised to return to ‘the homes of their friends’. However, they were both arrested again on 27 July for loitering &c at Maclaren (now McLaren) Wharf. They were sentenced to gaol with hard labour for one month.
The Register, 16 July 1878, p. 3; The Register, 29 July 1878, p. 3

September 1878: Sophia and Georgina Aslee were arrested for using indecent language. Fined 10s at the Adelaide Police Court.
The Register, 23 September 1878, p. 9

October 1878: Sophia and Elizabeth Lowther were arrested for behaving in a riotous manner and fined 10s at the Adelaide Police Court.
The Register, 19 October 1878, p. 3

November 1878: Sophia, along with many others, was charged with aiding and abetting James and Annie Kelly, who were occupiers of a house in Boddington’s Row ‘frequented by prostitutes and persons having no means of support’. Sophia (and the others) was sent to gaol for 10 days with hard labour. Two of the other women were Georgina Ashleigh (a.k.a. Aslee) and Mary Arthur, who had been arrested with Sophia in the past.
The Advertiser, 2 December 1878, p. 6

December 1878: Sophia was fined 10s for drunkenness and was remanded until Christmas Eve for trying to commit suicide by strangling herself. On Christmas Eve, she was cautioned for her behaviour but was discharged.
The Register, 23 December 1878, p. 9; The Advertiser, 25 December 1878, p. 7

January 1879: Sophia was fined 20s at the Adelaide Police Court for loitering.
The Register, 28 January 1879, p. 9

May 1879: Sophia was fined 10s at the Adelaide Police Court for indecent language. She, Mary Ann Young and Elizabeth Alderson (who had been arrested with her earlier) were fined 10s each for riotous behaviour in Morphett Street.
The Register, 8 May 1879, p. 9; The Register, 12 May 1879, p. 9

June 1879: Sophia was fined 10s for drunkenness.
The Register, 9 June 1879, p. 6

August 1879: Sophia was fined 10s for drunkenness and, later, sent to gaol for two weeks for loitering. This is the first time she is explicitly called a prostitute.
The Register, 9 August 1879, p. 7; The Register, 26 August 1879, p. 6

September 1879: Sophia was fined 10s for loitering &c at Port Adelaide. On this occasion, hers was the only case heard at the Port Adelaide Police Court on that day. She was later fined 10s at the Adelaide Police Court for using indecent language. On 22 September, she and Mary Ann Minchin, Annie Teakin and Catherine Coleman were fined 10s each for loitering in Adelaide. Three days later, Sophia was fined yet again for loitering (£1).
The Register, 12 September 1879, p. 6; The Register, 18 September 1879, p. 10; The Register, 23 September 1879, p. 10; The Register, 26 September 1879, p. 6

November 1879: Sophia was fined 10s for being drunk and using indecent and disgusting language in Currie Street. On 25 November, Sophia, Catherine Brown and Bridget Leake were fined 10s each for using indecent language.
The Advertiser, 7 November 1879, p. 6; The Register, 7 November 1879, p. 6; The Advertiser, 26 November 1879, p. 6

February 1880: Sophia Thomas was named in an inquest into the death of Thomas ‘Scottie’ Quinn. He died from injuries following a fight with James Viant, whose brother Violet Rawlinson (I wrote about her in the past post) stabbed with a pen knife. A witness, George Ashley, said he saw Sophia and another prostitute, Emma Willis, watching the fight: There were two girls close at hand, who were watching the fight. The names of the girls were Emma Willis and Sophia Thomas. I think, but I do not know, that these girls are prostitutes. When the police arrived, George Ashley left the scene because he didn’t want to be associated with the two girls. John Murphy, who resided at the same boarding house as Thomas Quinn and George Ashley, said that he, the deceased and three girls had been standing on the Morphett Street Bridge, chatting, when James Viant approached them: We had been there two or three minutes when the prisoner Viant come up from the other side of the bridge, and he commenced to abuse a girl called Sophia Thomas. I thought that he was angry with the girl on account of a jealous feeling excited by seeing the deceased sitting on the fence close to the girl. Thomas Quinn hit James Viant, who returned with a blow and they then fought for a couple of minutes before Viant threw Quinn to the ground. Quinn landed on the crown of his head.
Emma Willis appeared to be intoxicated when she was called as a witness. I was with the deceased on North-terrace, near the Black Swan Hotel. A girl named Sophia Thomas and the man John Murphy were with us. We walked towards the Morphett-street Bridge…The prisoner was leaning up against the bridge when the deceased came up and struck him on the mouth…The other girl was sitting between Murphy and the deceased. When the Coroner said he would not admit any more evidence from Willis until she was sober, the police detective said she was a long-time drunkard and he had never known her to be sober before.
Charles Johnson, “a coloured man”, was another witness to the fight and one who knew James Viant from childhood. He did not know Sophia Thomas by name, but knew Emma Willis and another prostitute he called ‘Carrotty Nell’. To my mind the prisoner and deceased both wanted to walk with the same girl – not Emma Willis, but another girl.
Surprisingly, Sophia Thomas herself was not called as a witness. The Coroner addressed the jury, saying the above witnesses were the only witnesses that could provide evidence for them. The inquest was adjourned until another witness, a sailor called McDonald, could be called and “it was also possible that the other girls who saw the row might bring forward fresh facts.”
The Register, 4 February 1880, p. 9
When the inquest began again, James McDonald was found and gave his evidence. Another witness, Frederick Acourt, saw Thomas Quinn talking to Sophia Thomas: Scottie was talking to one of the girls, Sophia Thomas, who saw Black [Charles] Johnson coming along the footpath and said, “Hullo, here comes Johnson, Jimmy aren’t far away.” Prisoner then appeared, and came across the road. He said, “Come here, my girls.” Thomas said, “We’re not doing any harm.”
James Viant was committed to trial for manslaughter.
The Advertiser, 6 February 1880, p. 6

May 1880: Sophia, Bridget Leake and Harriet Sune (I think!!!) were fined £1 each for being drunk and using indecent language.
The Register, 5 May 1880, p. 10

August 1880: Sophia, Eliza Jane Wooden, Timothy Ryan and Margaret Skerving were fined 10s each for drunkenness.
The Register, 23 August 1880, p. 10

October 1880: Sophia and Johanna Brockman were fined 10s each for drunkenness and using indecent language. [You can read more about Johanna Brockman at http://wags.org.au/o/wags-tales/characters/adelaide-ladies-on-the-town.html].
The Register, 18 October 1880, p. 9

January 1881: Sophia, Georgina Aslee and Alice Tree were charged by Thomas Poole, hotel proprietor, for ‘behaving in a riotous manner’ at the Provincial Hotel. They were fined 10s each, and Sophia and Georgina were charged with breaking a bottle of schnapps and three glasses (with a combined total of 4s) and were fined an extra 3s each.

February 1881: Sophia was fined 10s for drunkenness.
The Register, 15 February 1881, p. 9

March 1881: Sophia, Emily Clark and Maud Blanche Gould were charged with drunkenness. Sophia and Emily Clark were fined 15s and Maud Gould was fined £1.
The Register, 30 March 1881, p. 10

July 1881: Sophia and Ann Tonkin (‘old offenders’) were fined 10s for being drunk and using indecent language. A few days later, Sophia, Mary Jane Cuffe (who I wrote about in my thesis – her son died at the hands of a baby farmer and led to reforms in legislation surrounding ‘neglected children’ in 1881), Walter Longbottom, Emily Clark and Bernard McKee were fined 10s each for being drunk and using indecent language.
Later in the month, Sophia was named in another Coroner’s inquest – this one was into the death of Catherine Pearce, who was found drowned in the Torrens Lake on 18 July. Christina Williams, who had known Catherine Pearce for many years, said that she saw Sophia give Catherin a black eye a fortnight earlier. [I] last saw [Catherine Pearce] a fortnight ago at the City Hotel, when a woman named Sophia Thomas struck her in the eye and blackened it, at the same time remarking, “You gave one man eight years, but mark my words, you will never go against another man.” A man named Viant [yep, those Viants again] was present, but he did not interfere. “You,” continued Thomas, “will be found in the river one of these days, and then you will not ‘cadge’ for the detectives.” She had that morning met several men in the Stag Inn, and one of them, named McCue, said, “We have put one cad in the water.” Witness asked, “Are you speaking of a woman?” and the man replied, “Yes, and if we get you we will put you there too; and we will have Teddy Leake’s eight years out of you yet.” Mr. Badman, the landlord of the hotel, told her to take no notice of the remarks. The doctor who performed the post-mortem deposed that the deceased had a swollen eye and that she must have been struck very violently ‘because of the appearance of the inside of the scalp’. Again at this inquest, Sophia Thomas was not called as a witness, despite being a fairly important player in the events leading to Catherine Pearce’s death. The Coroner deemed Pearce’s cause of death as simply ‘found drowned’.
The Register, 11 July 1881, p. 9; The Register, 12 July 1881, p. 9; The Advertiser, 20 July 1881, p. 12; The Register, 23 July 1881, p. 9

November 1881: Sophia was fined £1 for drunkenness and indecent language.
The Register, 14 November 1881, p. 6

January 1882: Another inquest for Sophia, but this one was much closer to her.
The City Coroner, Mr. Ward, held an inquest at the Destitute Asylum on 12 January 1882 into the death of an unnamed female infant. The infant was the ‘illegitimate female child of an immoral character called Sophia Thomas’.
Here are the details of the case, all directly quoted from newspaper articles (because I really didn’t think paraphrasing would be worth it.)

The city coroner received a report on Wednesday morning, January 11, that a single woman named Sophia Thomas had been confined of a female child that morning in a shed at the rear of Mrs. Gearing’s premises in Currie-street. The child died shortly after birth, and the body was removed to the city morgue, the mother being taken to the lying-in hospital. An inquest will be held on the child at the Destitute Asylum today. (The Advertiser, 12 January 1882, pp. 4-5)

The City Coroner (Mr. T. Ward, J.P.) held an inquest at the Destitute Asylum on Thursday morning into the circumstances attending the death of the illegitimate female child of an immoral character named Sophia Thomas. The only evidence taken was that of Police-constable Osborne, who deposed that his attention was called to a woman who was lying in a fowl house at the rear of Mrs. Gearing's, next the Ship Inn, in Currie street, on Wednesday morning, about 6.30 o'clock. He found it was Thomas, who had been confined of a child, which had been removed to the house by Mrs. Gearing, and was lying on a sofa in a blanket, alive. He felt its heart beat and heard it cry. He had the mother removed to the Destitute Asylum. He had known her for the last eighteen months as living an immoral life. She was greatly addicted to drink. He saw her at the Provincial Hotel on Tuesday evening last. She informed him she bad been taken to the Hospital by a policeman, as she was suffering from pains in her stomach, but they would not admit her also that she had been walking about all night prior to her confinement At this stage the enquiry was adjourned until Friday, January 20. (The Register, 13 January 1882, p. 6)
           
The city coroner (Mr. T. Ward, J.P.) commenced an inquest at the Destitute Asylum on Thursday morning, January 12, on the body of the female child of a single woman named Sophia Thomas, who was confined in a shed belonging to a Mrs. Garing in Currie-street on the previous morning. Constable Osborne deposed to finding Sophia Thomas in a fowl house at the rear of Mrs. Garing's house, adjoining the Ship Inn, in Currie-street, at 6.30 on Wednesday morning. His attention was called to Thomas by Mrs. Gearing’s daughter, and he found she had been confined, and the child was in Mrs. Garing's house lying on a sofa- wrapped up in a blanket. The child was alive, as witness saw it move and heard it cry. Went for the police trap, and removed Thomas to the Destitute Asylum. Had known Thomas, who was a young girl, for the past eighteen months. She was a prostitute, and greatly addicted to drinking. At this stage the inquest was adjourned till Friday, January 20, in order to allow of Sophia Thomas being present. (The Advertiser, 13 January 1882, pp. 4-5)

The inquest on the infant child of Sophia Thomas, which died on January 11, shortly after birth, was continued by the city coroner (Mr. T. Ward, J.P.), at the Destitute Asylum, on Friday, January 20. From the evidence previously taken it appeared that Thomas, who was a single woman, was confined of a female child in an outhouse at the rear of Mrs. Gearing's premises in Currie-street. Mrs. Gearing deposed to hearing someone crying out for assistance, early on the morning of January 11, and finding Thomas in due course of her confinement in her fowl house. The child was born alive, but died very soon after birth. The landlord of the Ship Inn stated that he saw Thomas in his bar shortly after 6 o'clock, when she had a nobbler of brandy. Heard about three-quarters of an hour afterwards that she had been confined. The girl Thomas said she was a single woman, and had no particular place of abode, although she sometimes slept at the house of Mrs. Arnold in Hindley-street. She had been walking about during the two or three nights previous to her confinement. A man named William Tyson, who was now in gaol, was the father of the child. She did not know when she was to be confined, and did not think she was going to be confined until she called for assistance. She was taken to the Destitute Asylum about a week before, but left at the suggestion of the matron. Did not return to the Destitute Asylum because she thought she would not be taken in. Dr. Clindening stated that he found Thomas lying on a lot of dirty straw. Found the baby lying on the sofa in Mrs. Gearing's house, dead. The child was prematurely born, being about a seven or eight month's child, and was not well nourished. There were no marks of violence. The cause of death was debility after birth. Arthur Lindsay, superintendent of the Destitute Asylum, said when Thomas was brought to the Asylum on January 6 she was intoxicated, and in the matron's opinion was not likely to be confined for two months, so she was allowed to go. If Thomas had desired to remain she might have done so. Some further evidence had been called in explanation of the action of the Destitute Asylum authorities. The jury returned a verdict to the effect that the cause of the child's death was debility. They considered that no blame was to be attached to the Destitute authorities, and that Dr. Clindening was deserving of praise for the attention he showed to Thomas. (The Advertiser, 21 January 1882, pp. 4-5)

Death of an Infant — The City Coroner (Mr. Thomas Ward, J.P.) resumed the inquest on the body of the illegitimate female child of Sophia Thomas, a woman of immoral character, at the Destitute Asylum on Friday morning. The young woman, who was twenty years of age, was confined of the child in a fowl house at the rear of Mrs. Garing's house, in Currie-street, but it only lived for about twenty minutes after birth. In her evidence she stated she had been living with a Mrs. Arnold in Hindley Street, but for three or four nights before her confinement she had been in the habit of walking about all night. A policeman took her to the Destitute Asylum one night about a week before, and she stayed there then; but the next morning the matron told her to get up and go into the office, as she did not seem to be in the family way. Her name and address were taken, and she went away. She said, in reply to the Foreman and Jurors, that she did not return to the Asylum because she thought she would not be taken in. She would have remained if she had not been told to go to the office. When she left she had a piece of tin given to her to pass to the man at the gate as she went out. She did not remember that Sergeant Teate told her on the night before her confinement to go to the Asylum. Dr. Clindening, who was called to attend the mother, said the child had been prematurely born, and was ill nourished, but there were no marks of violence. The cause of death was debility after birth. In reference to the girl's statements as to leaving the Asylum a week before her confinement, Mr. Lindsay, Superintendent of the institution, said she was admitted on the night of the 4th, supposed to be in labour but it was subsequently found that she was m a state of intoxication. It had been intimated to him that she would not be confined for two months, and therefore on the following morning did not press her to remain, but if she had asked to be allowed to do so he would have given his permission. The Jury returned a verdict in accordance with the doctor's testimony. They considered that no blame was attached to the authorities, and that praise was due to Dr. Clindening for the attention he had paid to the woman. (The Register, 21 January 1882, p. 5)

March 1882: On 14 March, Sophia was fined 15s for drunkenness at the Adelaide Police Court. Later in the month, she was named in a robbery case involving William Tyson, the alleged father of her daughter. William Tyson, Thomas Williams, James O’Connor, Bernard McCue and Michael Kelly were charged with stealing a bank cheque, cash, a purse, a pair of spectacles, and a handkerchief from John Sweetland. Sophia Thomas witnessed all the prisoners but William Tyson stealing from him while he was sleeping at the Provincial Hotel, Hindley Street. The next day, Tyson tried to cash the cheque at a bank but the teller was suspicious of his character and, after questioning Tyson, called the police. The men were committed to trial.
The Register, 15 March 1882, p. 10; The Advertiser, 28 March 1882, p. 7

April 1882: William Tyson et.al.’s case was heard at the Supreme Court on 5 April. Sophia Thomas said she witnessed Thomas Williams reach into John Sweetland’s pockets and that McCue was watching him. William Tyson threw Sweetland’s handkerchief in her face. When Tyson was arrested with the cheque, he called out the others as he was being taken to the cells at the police station: “Sophy Thomas has cracked. I will turn dog on her to-morrow.” All the men were found guilty, despite a witness claiming that Michael Kelly was in Woodville at the time. Kelly was sentenced to two years’ hard labour but the other men were sentenced to four years’ hard labour, as they had prior convictions.
The Register, 6 April 1882, p. 9

May 1882: Sophia and many others (including Georgina Aslee – or Ashley, as she was known here, and Elizabeth Alderson), “an unsavory-looking lot” were charged with ‘being occupiers of a house in Clarendon-street frequented by thieves and prostitutes. The house only had one bed, one sofa and one mattress. The police detective said that when male prisoners were released from gaol, they went to the house “where the women attended them” but would go to the Park Lands with the women if they “wanted for anything”. Thomas and the others, apart from Charles Harris, were sentenced to three months’ gaol with hard labour.
The Register, 10 May 1882, p. 7

October 1882: Sophia was fined 10s for riotous behaviour at the Provincial Hotel (and was charged by the landlord, Thomas Poole) and a further £1 for assaulting Edward Johnson.
The Advertiser, 1 November 1882, p. 12

January 1883: Sophia, Kate O’Connell and Mary Louisa Serbalan were fined 10s for riotous behavior at the Provincial Hotel. Thomas Poole said they were using ‘the most filthy language’ when he ordered them to leave. Later in the month, she was charged 20s for being drunk and using indecent language.
The Register, 12 January 1883, p. 7; The Register, 26 January 1883, p. 7

March 1883: Sophia was fined 20s for drunkenness and indecent language.
The Advertiser, 9 March 1883, p. 7

May 1883: Sophia was fined 15s for being drunk.
The Advertiser, 12 May 1883, p. 9

June 1883: Sophia was fined 10s for drunkenness.
The Register, 6 June 1883, p. 3

July 1883: Sophia was fined 20s ‘for being drunk and behaving in an insulting manner  in the vicinity of the Salvation Army’. The Register said: “Miss Thomas was alleged to be drunk in Currie-street, and began rolling about among the ranks of a branch of the Salvation Army”.
The Advertiser, 19 July 1883, p. 7; The Register, 19 July 1883, p. 10

February 1885: Sophia was fined £2 for indecent language.
The Register, 18 February 1885, p. 7

According to the Australia Marriage Index, accessed via Ancestry, a Sophia Thomas married Fred Burrows on 27 June 1885 in Adelaide, South Australia. Sophia was the daughter of William and Fred, the son of Joseph. Considering there was a Joseph Burrows who owned a tobacconist’s shop in Hindley Street, one of Sophia’s haunts, it is very possible that Sophia Thomas married Fred Burrows, especially as she disappears from the newspapers after February 1885. I haven’t been able to find anything on Sophia Thomas or Sophia Thomas after this date, apart from one mention in an article from August 1885:
Sophia Thomas was found lying in the doorway of a cottage in Pirie-street, opposite the National Hotel. She had a ‘ghastly wound’ over one eye. She and her mother had been drinking and quarrelling throughout the day and her mother had bitten her on the face, almost taking off her whole right eyebrow. The police took her to hospital, where the wound was dressed, ‘and she afterwards returned to her home and went to bed’.
The Advertiser, 13 August 1885, p. 4