Wednesday, 19 June 2024
Royal Automobile Club of Australia, Sydney
Her Excellency the Honourable Margaret Beazley AC KC, Governor of New South Wales

Bujari gamarruwa, Diyn Babana Gamarada Gadigal Ngura

In greeting you in the language of the Gadigal, Traditional Owners of these lands and waterways, I pay my respects to their Elders past, present, and emerging.

When invited to do this presentation, my mind turned to whom, amongst the many women who have made a significant contribution to Australia as we know it today, I should turn my attention.  My immediate thought was to indulge my increasing love of early Australian history. However, as I thought more about it, my mind was turning to the women lawyers who changed the face of the legal profession – Elizabeth Evatt in the terms of the breadth of the roles she had, was probably the likely candidate, or Jane Matthews, who, because of her career as a practitioner, and then a judge in 3 different courts, moved the profession with her. 

I certainly hadn’t put myself in the mix, so I am both honoured and humbled that you have asked me to do so.  Captured within your invitation of course is your deep and scholarly interest in the Pioneer women of the Colony, who for my family starts with Rebecca Oakes, variously claimed to be the first free person to be born in the colony – but her birth date puts paid to that; or the first registered birth in the colony, which also seems to be debunked by better research, including by the Society.  More likely she was the second registered birth – although again I have heard variations on that. 

What we do know is that Rebecca Oakes was born on the 22nd September 1789,^[1] the first child of John Small and Mary Parker, convicts on the First Fleet ships the Charlotte and the Lady Penrhyn respectively, who had married here in the colony on 12 October 1788.^[2]   At first blush, given the crimes for which they were sentenced, this did not appear to be a propitious beginning, either for their future or, indeed, for their long line of descendants.  

Hardly a tale of truth being stranger than fiction, theirs’ was, however, very much a tale of the times. 

John Small had enlisted as a marine in the Royal Navy and twice did service on the HMS Lively in the Americas, at a time when Spain was a significant maritime competitor and the rumblings of what became the American War of Independence were being felt.   On his second voyage, the crew of the Lively, who had captured the American ship the St Helena, were overrun by their American prisoners and found themselves imprisoned in the dungeons of Morro Castle or Cavanna Castle.   

Thanks to a prisoner exchange with the Spanish, the crew of the Lively, including John Small, were released, and eventually returned to England.  John Small was honourably discharged in December 1783 with 21 days pay.

Twelve months later, an entry in the Morning Herald gives the clue to John Small’s subsequent fate: 

‘that we live in times, when the voice, which he calls the Majesty of the people, is despised, when our brave soldier [and] sailors who have fought our battles, are neglected and left to beg in the streets’.

Convicted of highway robbery in company, John Small was sentenced to death, which was commuted to 7 years transportation.   Once having served his term, he became a successful and prosperous landowner having been given a land grant in 1794 upon which the historic House Willandra at Ryde was subsequently built. In 1809, he was appointed the first Constable of Parramatta, a position he held for 17 years.^[3] 

Mary Parker was convicted of stealing clothing from a washing line.  Being her second stealing offence, the first for the theft of two tablecloths, she too was sentenced to transportation to New South Wales.  She served as a convict nurse both on the journey out and, it would seem, also in the Colony.  Her history becomes a little uncertain at this point as there are suggestions she was engaged as a servant in Government House, which is where our family’s Gubernatorial connections commence. Records consistently suggest that John and Mary’s eldest child, Rebecca, was born at the First Government House located on what is now the corner of Bridge and Phillip Street on 22 September 1789.

Rebecca married Francis Oakes on 27 January 1806.   Francis was a shoemaker by trade, an artisan missionary, the recipient of land grants in the Parramatta area and also appointed a Constable of Parramatta.   Francis was involved in 3 of the cases that led to the overthrow of Governor Bligh: he gave evidence against D’Arcy Wentworth, was sent to arrest John Macarthur – who resisted as only John Macarthur could and would – and was a witness at Lieutenant-Colonel George Johnston’s court martial in London.  He became superintendent of the Female Factory and was described as an “honest steady citizen” – or as one might say a dependable chap.^[4]

It was at this point I thought I could entitle my remarks I have a lot of relatives - or Do I have a relative in the room?  John and Mary Small had 12 children, 7 of whom survived. Rebecca had 14 children.  She survived 6 of them.  Rebecca’s youngest child William also had 14 children.  In more recent history, my grandmother, Lilias Oakes was one of 10 and my father was the eldest of Lilias Oakes and Henry Osborne Beazley’s 6 children, and I am one of 5 children.

Rebecca and Francis Oakes’ eldest son, George, was a member of the Legislative Council on two separate occasions. Of note, he defeated William Macarthur to represent Parramatta in the Legislative Council in 1848 -– and was applauded in the local press (The Empire) as “an earnest advocate for popular rights” who had not “suffered himself to be wheedled or bounced out of the independent exercise of his own judgment”.   He had a stint in the newly created Legislative Assembly, followed by the second of his terms as a Legislative Councillor.  Without side tracking too much, it appears that George was a principled politician and successful grazier and businessman, including as a director of the Australian Gaslight Company. His son, Francis, was also a member of Parliament.

Rebecca died on 30 January 1883, 5 years short of the Centenary of the founding of the colony and at the time of her death was the oldest surviving white person who had been born in the colony.    It seems from the published obituaries of the time she was an impressive, if retiring woman.  The Australian Town and Country Journal wrote:

‘Mrs. Oakes enjoyed the reputation of being an exceedingly virtuous and charitable woman. Her retiring habits caused her to be less generally known than she deserved to be. The deceased was not a prominent actor in any of the stirring scenes of the past, but had been an intelligent observer of them all. She lived under all the governors from Captain Phillip to Lord Loftus, and had the honour of the personal acquaintance of most of them.’^[5]

I interpolate that between those 2 Governors were Governors Hunter, King, Bligh, Macquarie, Brisbane, Darling, Bourke, Gipps, Fitzroy, Denison, Young, Belmore, and Robinson. 

The obituary in the Nepean Times said:

‘Those who are best acquainted with her knew how gentle was her spirit, how charitable was her disposition, how devout and blameless her life. She was emphatically the friend of the afflicted and poor, and for many years she lived for purposes of practical, though unostentatious, kindness. Mrs. Oakes will live in the affections of a large circle of connections, and many beyond that circle will be sorry to hear that this venerable lady has passed away.’

Francis and Rebecca’s grandson, George Spencer Oakes, became Archdeacon of Bathurst and is generally recognised as the parson in Banjo Patterson’s poem the Bush Christening.  He was chaplain with the first Australian Commonwealth Horse in South Africa during the Boer War and was awarded the Queen’s Medal.^[6]   His only son Arthur died at Gallipoli.

The marriage of my parents, Gordon Osborne Beazley and Lorna Mollie Hanley, broke the long line of Protestantism in the family.   My mother was the granddaughter of John Hanley from County Cork who, with his brother, arrived in Australia in 1850 to escape the Potato famine.

Thus commenced the discrete Catholic lineage of the Beazley family.   I was the third of 5 children.   As is well documented, my father was a milkman and my mother ‘the administrator of the household’, as I like to describe her life as a devoted mother, and talented seamstress from whom the creative side of the family seems to come.  We lived in suburban Hurstville and all 5 of us attended local Catholic schools, taught by Josephite nuns and Marist brothers.  

I very much see myself and my siblings as the product, first, of very hard-working parents who had a belief in education, despite or probably because of their own lack of education.  It was the lucky period of the Post World War II recovery when education was key.   As I like to say, my schooling was not fancy, but I was blessed with excellent teachers committed to encouraging their students to do what they wanted to do.   My Catholic education was low fee and without a great deal of amenity at a time when state or Commonwealth financial assistance, known as State Aid, was not a budget item. When it was introduced, it was subject to a High Court constitutional challenge.^[7] 

Our life was one of economic certainty due to my parents’ work ethic, but certainly not of riches. It was a typical childhood of lots of outdoor play, going to school, good health, the occasional Friday night movie, and summer holidays at my maternal grandparents’ little weatherboard house at Patonga beach with our cousins.  It would have been considered a working-class background and, along with many of my contemporaries, with the benefit of the education of which I have spoken, we were part of a generation that was able to transcend the deficits, if indeed they were deficits, and succeed in a professional world.  

Simple as my upbringing was, as I look back, there are glimpses of the things which planted the seeds of my personal philosophy, my outlook, my interests and, ultimately, success, in a male dominated profession which was not easy to navigate, but which was intellectually and personally rewarding. 

ther read to us a lot and, in an era when preschools didn’t exist, or at least were not the norm, I was reading by the time I started school. Reading remains a passion, mostly historically based, but I savour any book of beautiful prose. My father would listen to classical music on ABC radio and had a stack of classical music records – my favourite was Tchaikovsky – especially Waltz of the Flowers from the Nutcracker suite which I played incessantly. Today, my love is of classical music, and I was never particularly caught up with pop music.  In fact, The Beatles had no appeal to me until I heard their music orchestrated. It was only then I understood how good it was. 

So, if I could sum up those early years, I was reasonably academically gifted, I was a tomboy – into everything - I obviously stood out in various ways as I was school captain, not once but thrice, including after being at my last school, MSJ Milperra, in years 11 and 12.   This raises a question I have asked myself a number of times and which I am pondering again for a speech later this week: are leaders born or made?  

Both intuition and the interminable literature on the subject will tell you leaders are usually born but can always learn more about the art and the science of leadership.   However, everyone has insights, talents, attributes and often hidden qualities - not usually and possibly not considered leadership talents as such – but attributes which make the world go round better than if those attributes aren’t allowed to flourish. Part of the role of a leader is to recognise and facilitate the talents around you.

In terms of the other influences in my life, there is no doubt that I have been strongly influenced by the Josephite philosophy – of never seeing a need without doing something about it. I was hugely assisted by my maths and science teacher Sr Patricia Malone who, because she understood not only the ability of her students but also what made them tick, was the person I turned to when a friend of my brother, who was doing law, told me it would be impossible to pass without doing a combined Arts Law Degree.  With Sr Pat’s insight and encouragement, I did straight law. And passed.

Sr Pat’s advice, and her understanding of my personality, in many ways set the direction of my professional career which has been quite lineal – straight law; straight to the Bar at age 23; 13 years as junior counsel, 4 years as senior counsel and then appointment to the Bench, all at relatively young ages and with my 3 children along the way.

There is no doubt I worked hard – that, I think, is a family trait.  People saw me as having ambition – which I think was a byproduct that I was seen to work hard.   I don’t deny that I did want to be known and acknowledged as a good barrister.  It must be remembered this was at a time when there weren’t many females at the Bar, and those who were there were older and fairly much quarantined into family law work – which I was told by male barrister after male barrister was what women barristers did.   Family Law is probably the area where members of the community most interact with the law and are most affected by it. However, it was not my passion – indeed the reverse - and one day after court I simply said: enough is enough, I’m not doing family law anymore.

The prejudice against women was significant and palpable. I can give many examples but again one will suffice.  There was an occasion when a partner at a large law firm returned from holidays to find that I had been briefed and withdrew the matter from me without notice, apology or explanation. To his absolute credit the associate who had briefed me had the good grace and honesty to ring me later to explain. 

I became known as a mentor to other young lawyers, especially female lawyers – but that is only because I always had my door open to them – that I think was second nature to me – but it was certainly not something that was available to me as a young lawyer, due to the predominantly male and often unaccepting profession.  

I have energy which has allowed me to do a lot of things. I think I am a good communicator – which has served me well both as a lawyer and now as Governor.  I also have no doubt that having analytical skills honed over a 40-year legal career, and my natural curiosity about things, have been important in the performance of my constitutional role as Governor and my role within the community.  

To give an example of the latter, I was recently at the University of New England, whose new Vice Chancellor had started some 3-4 months previously.  After being given a tour of research facilities and institutes within the University for an hour or so, he said to me: “You have a very interesting way of getting information out of people: I’ve learned more about the University in the last hour than I have in the last 3 months”.  When mentioning this to a former judicial colleague, he laughed and said: “Once a cross-examiner, always a cross-examiner”.

I have many, many stories to tell and have forgotten more than I remember, but rather than my talking further, I am keen to know what you are interested in, including your views on whether there really is such a thing as colonial DNA which continues to shape succeeding generations. 

[1] https://oa.anu.edu.au/obituary/oakes-rebecca-18835

[2] https://illawarrasmallbradleyukfirstfleetfamilies.wordpress.com/john-small/first-fleeter-john-small-1761-1850-a-time-line/

[3] https://illawarrasmallbradleyukfirstfleetfamilies.wordpress.com/john-small/first-fleeter-john-small-1761-1850-a-time-line/

[4] https://historyandheritage.cityofparramatta.nsw.gov.au/research-topics/parramatta-people/francis-oakes-and-rebecca-oakes-pioneers-of-parramatta

[5] https://oa.anu.edu.au/obituary/oakes-rebecca-18835

[6] https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/oakes-george-spencer-7867

[7] Attorney-General (Vic) & Or v The Commonwealth of Australia & Or (1981) 146 CLR 559.