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| Jean Ryall 1909 in the Western Mail
As a child I remember my "Granny", Vivienne Kennedy nee Torr reciting great tracts of poetry: Wordsworth, Tennyson, Patterson, Barrett Browning. I figured it must run in the genes because I can still recite word perfect, several of William Wordsworth's oevre, poems and nursery rhymes we learnt in Italian.
Anyway, we knew of Granny's facility for poetry and memory, and there had been a rumour in the family that she had won poetry competitions in her childhood in rural Western Australia. Little did we know the treasure trove we would discover 13 years after her death. |
My uncle, Ivan Kennedy, dug into the Archive at the National Library of Australia, ''Trove" We were amazed to discover a fistful of beautiful poems written by Vivienne as a little girl. I attach links to all of those we found here: Vivienne Torr Treasure Trove and share one dear little poem below written when she had just turned twelve:
Fairies
Last night I peeped through my window,
When the moon was shining bright,
When the flowers were sweetly sleeping,
On that starry summer night.
I slipped down from my window,
Down to the lawn below,
My heard was very happy,
As I walked by the river's flow.
I thought I heard sweet singing,
As I crept along, so wary,
And there beside the pansy border,
I spied a dainty fairy.
I knelt upon the ground beside her,
And looked into her eyes so bright.
And then to my amazement,
She vanished from my sight.
I rose from the off the gravel path,
It was warm, and still, and bright.
Had I really heard the fairies,
Or just the noises of the night.
By Vivienne Torr, Hamel (sent in February 1930)
This poem is one of several Vivienne submitted to "Aunt Mary" in the Western Mail "Children's Corner" which was the internet posting of the day. You would become a member of the Children's Corner by sending in a subscription and becoming a 'silver link' which was a reference to the 'Silver Chain', the still existing nursing and home nursing charity. It was fundraiser and entertainment for young people of the day. My grandmother was a frequent contributor. Beyond the poetry, there is ample evidence of Vivienne's 'jocund company', she writes in several funny family jokes and paragraphs, a couple of which are below:
Fairies
Last night I peeped through my window,
When the moon was shining bright,
When the flowers were sweetly sleeping,
On that starry summer night.
I slipped down from my window,
Down to the lawn below,
My heard was very happy,
As I walked by the river's flow.
I thought I heard sweet singing,
As I crept along, so wary,
And there beside the pansy border,
I spied a dainty fairy.
I knelt upon the ground beside her,
And looked into her eyes so bright.
And then to my amazement,
She vanished from my sight.
I rose from the off the gravel path,
It was warm, and still, and bright.
Had I really heard the fairies,
Or just the noises of the night.
By Vivienne Torr, Hamel (sent in February 1930)
This poem is one of several Vivienne submitted to "Aunt Mary" in the Western Mail "Children's Corner" which was the internet posting of the day. You would become a member of the Children's Corner by sending in a subscription and becoming a 'silver link' which was a reference to the 'Silver Chain', the still existing nursing and home nursing charity. It was fundraiser and entertainment for young people of the day. My grandmother was a frequent contributor. Beyond the poetry, there is ample evidence of Vivienne's 'jocund company', she writes in several funny family jokes and paragraphs, a couple of which are below:
CHEAP DISHES.
A long time ago, when grandma wasvery small, she broke a large meat-dish,and was very delighted.
"Oh. mummy," she cried. "Look at allthe lovely dishes I've made for you."
From Vivienne Torr, Hamel. (Note: the above describes a story about my Grandmother's, grandmother's mother, so my great-great-great grandmother).
SHE ALWAYS KNEW.
One day, when my sister was very little,she swore and mother, of course, was not very pleased. "You must have learnt that from the neighbour's children," she said crossly. My sister became indignant. "I didn't," she replied haughtily, '"I always knew that, but I couldn't say it when I was little.
Flem Vivienne Torr. Hamel.
THE PUNISHMENT
One day, when my brother was aboutfive years of age, he arrived home fromschool and told mother that teacher said she would have to punish some of the boys if they came late again. "What will she do to them?" queried mother. My brother, having had a lesson in scripture the day before on how the Lord punished the Egyptians by drowning them in the Red Sea, evidently thought it quite a common method of punishment, and after a moment's hesitation replied quiteseriously, "Drown 'em."
Sent in by Vivienne Torr
So I was just so delighted with this treasure trove and amazed by this new resource, that I kept hunting and was thrilled to find that there was an announcement of my Grandmother's birth in the pages of the Children's Corner by one of her sisters writing in. Then I kept trawling through and found the first letter to the Corner my grandmother had written and it explained that her mother - my great grandmother - had been the winner of the Gold Medal for the Silver Chain in in July 1909, awarded for her amazing contribution to the fundraising efforts of the Silver Chain - she had sent dozens of parcels of handiworks, and held several fundraisers. Apart from finding that fundraising and frenetic activity run in the family, this led to us finding poetry written by Jean Ryall in her adolescence. It's a wonderful correspondence for a great-grand daughter to discover. There are many pieces, but I share just one here which has very special resonance for me, given my sorrows of losing Edward, and my hopes of having another little baby to "walk in the world".
To cheer my lot in the world below.
(One is earth and another is heaven
But neither is lost to me I know),
For one beside my bed is sleeping
Secure, though tempests rack and chafe.
And one in kindly angel-keeping
Within my fathers house is safe.
Swiftly as speeds the fleeing arrow,
The younger passed from our brief control.
But God who numbers the falling sparrow
Counted, I know, the little soul.
So I walk not broken-hearted,
As one who grieves to hope no more;
For though the cruel past has parted,
The heavenly future shall restore.
One living child beside me lingers,
To cheer and brighten my dwelling place.
There is joy in the clasp of his little fingers;
There is bliss in the look in his little face.
So one shall walk in the world to love me,
And cheer my soul when I droop and nigh;
And one shall shine like a star above me
And light me heavenward when I die.
Jean Ryall, Hamel. February 1913.
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