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The Misses Chadwick were very old ladies when I met them, back in late 1978, in the Sydney nursing home where they lived. Muriel, the elder, was a frail, querulous old body. Her younger sister, Doris, was a more stocky individual, with short, straight grey hair: I remember her shuffling around the corridors with a folded newspaper under her arm, and a cheery smile of greeting for those she met. Sadly, Doris’s speech had been badly affected by a stroke and I was never able to understand much of what she said; but I was told she was clever (she still did the crossword in the newspaper each day) – she had written books! A few weeks after I first met the sisters, I happened to be looking through the library belonging to a Boys’ Home several miles away, and one book in particular caught my attention. It was called John of the Sirius (published by Thomas Nelson & Sons Ltd. in 1955), and the author was Doris Chadwick. On opening the front cover, the first thing I saw was the dedication: “This book is my gift to the children of Australia, to my friend H.P. Melville, and to my sister Muriel”. It had been written by my acquaintance from the nursing home! I was most excited at the discovery, and was even more thrilled when the director of the Boys’ Home insisted on my keeping the book. This was my first introduction to a title that would later become one of our family favourites. I think Doris Chadwick had died by the time I returned to the nursing home the following summer, so I never had the opportunity to tell her how much I enjoyed her books. But I believe it would have given her great pleasure to know that another generation of Australians appreciate her writings just as much as the children of Australia for whom she first wrote them. * * * * * My own children first “met” John of the Sirius when the oldest were about 5 and 6 years old. From the earliest pages of the book they were completely caught up in the account of young John and his sister Sue who accompanied their mother and father (a Captain of the Marines) on the long voyage across to Botany Bay, with the First Fleet. As we followed them on their journey, we learned something about the preparations for the voyage; about a sailor’s diet on board ship (“Salt pork and pease, and oatmeal and butter and cheese, every day, every month, until we get to this Botany Bay Land”); and about the various places the Fleet visited en route from Portsmouth to New South Wales. Historical and geographical facts are skilfully woven into the narrative, with John somehow managing to be in the thick of any action that occurs. Rio de Janeiro is memorable for his falling overboard and having to be rescued; and where he has tea with the Captain of the Fort, who kindly gives orange trees, coffee plants, and all manner of other seedlings to John’s Papa. At the Cape of Good Hope, John and his friend Martin climb Table Mountain with some of the officers from the Fleet; and a kindly Dutch lady and her daughter ply the children with delicious sweetmeats which, together with an ostrich egg he is given, interest John far more than the livestock and plants his elders acquire before departing on the final stage of their long voyage. By the time we reach Botany Bay, John has been appointed “trinket boy” to the Commodore (Captain Arthur Phillip), which means he looks after the box of looking glasses, beads and ribbons to offer as gifts to any black men they meet. Armed with this, he is one of the party which first enters and explores “the finest harbour in the world”. John of the Sirius concludes with the raising of the flag in Sydney Cove on 26 January, 1788. It is a wonderful “living” introduction to Australian history, and an excellent book for reading aloud (children of 9-10 or so enjoy reading it themselves). Many weeks after finishing it, my children were able to tell me the names of all the ships in the First Fleet, which impressed me, as I would have been hard put to give them the same information! A sequel, John of Sydney Cove, begins just a few days after the close of John of the Sirius, and covers the early months of the young settlement. Again, we are introduced to real people (such as James Ruse) and events (the disappearance of the colony’s much-prized cattle, among others). My chief complaint with this volume is that John seems to get away with disobedience far too often – though his misbehaviour (or just plain thoughtlessness) is often the cause for him being involved in some genuine historical happening. With this reservation, it is still another “please will you read us another chapter” kind of book. Like the others, the third book in the series (John and Nanbaree) is full of historical facts, woven into a well-written children’s story. It is 18 months after the First Fleet has arrived, and the settlers are enduring hardship as they wait for supply ships to arrive from England. John has grown up a little (he is nearly 12 at the end of the book) and is generally more responsible than in previous years; though he still manages, by one means or another, to be involved in everything that happens! Incidentally, Nanbaree was a real person – unlike John! Apart from a few quibbles relating to Cookie’s behaviour and language, and questions raised as to whether John was right in shielding an escaped convict, I much preferred this book to John of Sydney Cove – despite a rather glaring "mistake" in the last few pages. All three books are out of print, though you may find them second-hand, and a number of libraries keep copies in their stacks. From the dedication in the front of John and Nanbaree, it appears that Doris Chadwick was editor of the NSW School Magazine from 1922-1960. If anyone has access to copies of these old magazines, it may be worth investigating to see whether any other of her stories are included in their pages. Copyright © Ruth Marshall 2003
Note:
This article is an edited version of one which first appeared in A Living
Education, a quarterly publication devoted to "applying Charlotte Mason
in Australian Homeschools".
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