Convict ancestors are a source of pride for Australians in our generation. The days when it was a boast to be descended from free settlers or assisted migrants are long gone. One of my great-grandfathers was sent out as a minister of the Presbyterian Church. I can hear the yawns.
My Norwegian great-grandfather was a remittance man.
You don’t hear much about remittance men nowadays – those black sheep from respectable families who were paid a small allowance to stay away.
Enter Oscar Severin Wedel Jarlsberg.
Oscar came from a large, well-connected Norwegian family. His father Fritz was a customs official, and the family lived in a big farmhouse not far from Larvig. Oscar had six brothers and two sisters. His elder brothers Finn, Fritz and Ferdinand all entered the navy in their teens. His brother Hermann was a civil servant. His sister Louise died in agony of an internal obstruction at the age of eighteen.
Oscar received a bachelor’s degree from King Frederiks University, Christiania, now Oslo, in 1842, and then enrolled for a higher degree. His elder sister, Hildur, married a German official, Carl Marschalck von Bachtenbrock in 1844. Carl represented the Hanoverian King in Aurich, North Germany. Only two members of the family came from Norway for the wedding – Hildur’s father Fritz and her brother Oscar, “the student”. Fritz’s wife, known as Bolly, was not well enough to travel. In 1845 she died.
Oscar coached his brother Frithjof for his naval cadet’s exam, but unfortunately the boy died in 1847. It was a dark time for the family.
It is not clear what Oscar did in his late twenties, but one way or another he managed to infuriate his widowed father. Even his sister Hildur, always fond of him, wrote that she could see something must be done. Oscar would never finish his thesis. “But Australia!” she added with an exclamation point. That seemed extreme.
Oscar was 33 and, unlike his brothers, had no clear career path. There may have been some other scandal. Emigration seemed the only solution.
Under the alias “O. Ledew” (his surname backwards) he took a berth in steerage on a cargo ship, the Mary Ross, sailing from Hamburg on 8 October 1855 for Hobart Town and Sydney. His sister Hildur sent some clothes and cash to the ship.
Like thousands of other hopeful souls, Oscar made his way to the Victorian goldfields, mining and running small businesses in Ballarat and Gobur. He kept animals on a local common, was involved in various local disputes about fences and land use, and was elected, on his second attempt, to the school board. He married Irishwoman Mary Manning, a servant, born in Tipperary in 1838. She was 25; he was 42 but gave his age as 39. The couple had three daughters.
The family was never rich. Remittances from Europe arrived from time to time, obviously not huge sums. These may have represented income from some family estate. From Germany, Hildur wrote in English to her sister-in-law Mary, thanking her for being so faithful and loving to her “hardly proved brother”. My grandmother, Oscar and Mary’s third daughter, born in 1874, was named Hildur Marschalck after her aunt.
After moving around the goldfields for some years, the family returned to Ballarat. Hildur became a pupil teacher at the age of 12. Oscar’s wife Mary died in 1895, but he was to live well into the next century, dying in 1909 at the age of 87.
There is nothing distinguished about Oscar’s life in Australia, but nothing disgraceful either. He was a loyal family man and a hard worker. He made friends and retained a patriotic love for Norway.
But what went wrong in the years 1847 to 1855? I look at his face and wonder. Perhaps a depressive episode? A falling out with his thesis supervisor?
I have made inquiries in Norway, to no avail.
My best source for insights into Oscar, apart from Ron McNicoll’s family monograph, was the discovery of a book by his sister Hildur. This book, A Norwegian woman on the German shore, memoirs of Baroness Hildur Marschalck, born Wedel-Jarlsberg, was written in Norwegian in Hildur’s old age. Translated into German by her granddaughter Else von Hammerstein, it was published in Berlin in 1914. Despite being heavy going with its old-style Fraktur typeface, it gives a detailed account of life in a titled Norwegian family in the nineteenth century. It includes many letters and illustrations and – yes – every photograph is captioned.
But Hildur leaves my big question unanswered. What went wrong for Oscar?
I see that something must be done. But Australia!