Family histories can be a rich source of inspiration for novels and stories. My family history is no different. When I decided to write Australian Historical Fiction, that’s where I started, by tracing family history of my own. Like a great percentage of Australians I have Irish forebears. Most of those on my father’s side hailed from around Dublin. In the 15th Century, our family built several castles to protect their people and their lands.
Sadly, Drimnagh Castle, known also as Barnewall Castle, is the only one that still stands. I’ve wandered through its hallways, leant on the railing above the great hall and peered down, imagining the castle’s inhabitants captured in time, feasting, dancing, preparing of war. It’s a castle that claims more than a little of my heart, but one that will never be mine.
Trimlestown Castle: a ruin with incredible history
Trimlestown Castle, sadly now a ruin, was another castle belonging to the Barnewall family. Twelve miles from Dublin centre, and outside the town of Trim, in the 1800s it was home to Lord Trimlestown of Meath. Two of the lord’s daughters, Lady Mary Jane and Lady Letitia, were part of the social scene in Dublin, spending time in the city at their residence, Turvey House. But their focus in life changed dramatically, when both sisters joined the nunnery in Lucan.
They turned their backs on the entitlement of their station, the lavish lifestyle of balls and ballgowns and suitors. Mary Jane, the eldest, took the name Sister Berchmans and Letitia became Sister Ignatius. After some years as postulates and then nuns in Lucan, they left Ireland via Southampton in England and travelled on the ship SS Austral to Australia in 1886 to teach at the newly built Catholic school in Lismore. These women knew they would leave their homeland forever, for uncertain adventures in a strange land.
The courage, curiosity and determination these women demonstrated can only be admired. To follow the strength of their convictions from what had been privilege to a life of austerity and devotion shows what strong women they were.
Tracing family history is often a story of courage and determination
Somewhere in the mix of the sisters leaving Ireland, or perhaps from an earlier time with different players, but still Irish Barnewalls leaving their homeland, there is a ring. Amethyst, if I remember correctly. It’s a Barnewall heirloom that I’ve held in my hand only once, over thirty years ago. Given in the mid-1800s, as a remembrance from one family member to another when they both emigrated to different countries, one to Canada, the other to Australia. Carved into the bottom of the precious stone in impossibly small lettering are a few words. Not goodbye but adieu.
The courage, determination and, for those who experienced the horrors of the Irish Famine first-hand, desperation, shown by the many women in my own family history, is spread bare before me. It was from this mix I plucked my fictional main character, Bridie. But, instead of giving her the trappings of wealth, and choices in life, I gave her no entitlements at all. She is a young woman who, during the famine, was forced to make choices that would change her life forever. She develops a finely honed sense of justice that won’t let her stay silent.
Especially when, as she works as a maid in outback Queensland, an innocent man is accused of a murder she knows he didn’t commit.
For more of my writing, check out my short story, “Smooth“, which you can read from the homepage of this site. If you haven’t already, sign up for my newsletter and get stories like this delivered to your inbox.