Catherine Squires Crosby 1877 – 1968

Catherine Squires Crosby 1877 – 1968

It doesn’t matter that my great-grandmother was yet another Catherine in my family tree.  I was lucky enough to know her, so don’t get her mixed up with any of the others.  I have lasting impressions of a placid old lady - bent and hobbling with the help of two sticks in the last years of her life but always happy to see us when we arrived to visit.

 

She died in the November of 1968, during a heat wave.  At 91 the heat must have been too much for her.  It was hard for me to imagine that anything would be too much for her.  She seemed indomitable.   I was thankful that the previous year I had visited her and she had the opportunity to hold my oldest child, Danny, her first great-great-grandchild.  She had really loved that. 

The young Kate 

Throughout the young lives of my siblings and myself we spent our school holidays at Townson, at the head of the Laidley Creek Valley.  This was where Kate had come as a toddler with her parents and where she had grown up with her three brothers and three sisters and other pioneers of the district.

The fertile flats alongside Laidley Creek, with the Little Liverpool Range to the east and the Mistake Mountains to the west, are reputed to be some of Australia's most fertile farming land.  The road up the valley follows Laidley Creek and distances are often referred to as how far up the creek something is.

When the young Kate married Sam Crosby they lived almost as far up the valley as the road goes these days.  But way back in the very early 1900s there was a thriving timber mill up in those hills at the head of the valley, complete with workers' cottages and school bus.  Before Thornton School was built, one of my ancestors, George Crosby who had arrived from England to work at the mill, gave lessons to the children.  He was later killed by a log on the mountain. 

Below is a screen shot from Google Earth which shows quite clearly the lush farms alongside the creek in the valley and the surrounding mountains.

Kate and Sam made a home for themselves in what had been the Laidley hospital.  It had been moved to its current location by bullock team. 

The house being moved up the valley

From a wide central hallway there were rooms opening off each side and a wide verandah around three sides.  Out the back door you walked across a walkway covered with a corrugated iron roof but the sides open to the elements, railings of rough, untreated wood, across a small verandah and into the kitchen which had been the original Townson School.  The length of the kitchen was roughly the same as the width of the house.  Down one end was a huge dining table that would have seated 12-14, maybe more, and up the other end was a smaller table, cupboards and the old wood stove.  (One of the back bedrooms was converted to a kitchen in her later life.)  You can see the house with the kitchen at the back in the old photo below.

The kitchen is gone now but the distinctive shape of the house remains.  Wooden railings on the verandahs replace the beautiful old wrought iron work.  You can see it in the background of this photo, taken around 1950.   I’m standing on the right, my second cousin, Audrey Whiteway is beside me.  To Audrey’s right is another second cousin, Colleen Crosby with (I think) my brother Peter in front of her, then my brother Denis and sister Esme.  I can’t remember who the child in front is. 

A gathering of the district is 1907.  Kate is on the right at the end of the front row holding her first born, my grandmother, Phyllis.  Sam is the tall striking second gentleman from the right.  He sure knew how to strike a pose.

Our grandmother always took us to ‘pay our respects’ to Great-granny every holiday.  Although she lived just across a paddock and on the other side of the creek we dressed for the occasion.  We were bathed and scrubbed, hair brushed, dressed in our best clothes, carried our shoes and socks to the creek and put them on when we reached the other side.  It’s hard to believe these days when we dress so casually, that my grandmother also donned her Sunday best, complete with hat and handbag.  She even put on her stockings after we crossed the creek.  By the time we got to the other side of the paddock, our shoes and socks were usually filthy but they had to stay on until the formal part of the visit was over.  After greetings we would all proceed to a long stool which sat on the small verandah outside the kitchen.  We children would sit (quietly) there while Gran and her mother disappeared into the kitchen.  I would sometimes be called (as the oldest) to come and carry out the cake or drinks.  Gran and Great-granny would emerge with their cups of tea and they would decide whether we stayed there or moved to a side verandah of the house if there was any sort of breeze to be found.    We were always given a slice of home made cake each or a homemade biscuit and a drink of warm cordial.  I can still taste that cordial, it was horrid, sickly sweet and never cold.    Once settled we would eat our cake as daintily as we know how and chat politely to Great-granny, which basically involved answering her questions about the family, school, etc.  Then Gran would say we could take off our shoes and socks and go to play.  But not to chase the chooks or go into the creek.  And we would be free to explore what had changed since our last visit.  Top of the list would be to have a look at the causeway where the road crossed the creek to see if any swimming holes had appeared.   As we girls grew older we were expected to stay with the ladies and join in the conversation.  (How come the boys never had to do that?  Not that I can remember anyway.) 

I remember her youngest daughter, Edie saying that great-granny did not see the arrival of electricity (in 1959) as any great event.  She never trusted it and only ever had one power point in the kitchen for an electric kettle and a couple of points in bedrooms. 

I was always impressed by how, although getting around was obviously difficult for her, she was always cheerful.  And would often comment that there were plenty worse off than her and the walking sticks came in handy if she had to chase the chooks.  She survived the floods and droughts of the valley and, as I mentioned, seemed indomitable.  I admired her greatly.  She seemed to be very true to herself and obviously retained the love and respect of her children.  I always got the impression that she had created security for herself and her family despite the many hardships she must have faced.   As a young mother I aspired to be like her and my grandmother.  I hoped the mould wouldn’t break.

Kate's youngest daughter, Edie aged 97, third from left, centre row in the photo below with other descendents of the Crosby family at the annual Back to Townson weekend held each year at Crosby Park, Townson.

And, below, my brothers Michael and Peter, me and sister Clare shelter from the sun at Crosby Park, on a sentimental trip up the creek after our mother died in 2016.

Known facts:

Born 16 September, 1877 in Toowoomba to Catherine (Kate) Thompson and John Squire

Married Samuel Watson Crosby

Phyllis Lillian 1905 - 1990 (my grandmother)

Travers, 1907 and passed away that same day

William Eric (Eric) 1908 - 2007

Archie 1909 - 1954

Stella (Myers) 1911 - 

Elsie (Whiteway) 1913 – 1978

Sydney (Syd) 1915 - 2007

Samuel David (Dave) 1916 - 2016

James Watson 1919 – 1928

Edie (Bambling) 1920 – (was still alive in 2019)

Directions to Townson:  Head south from Laidley along Patrick St to Lions Park and Narda Lagoon; follow the signs to Mulgowie then to Thornton; continue towards Mt Mistake and Townson at the end of the valley, where Crosby Park has picnic facilities alongside Laidley Creek.