William Mountjoy remained in office until he retired in 1923 - 50 years after his father Thomas
sang the National Anthem for Victoria's Governor at Lome, and some 70 years after Thomas
and Caleb left Cornwall to make a new life for themselves in a new world far away.
The Mountjoys made Lome. But none lives there today.
Thomas died at Lome, of 'old age and debility', in April 1913; he was 87. Caleb died, aged 93,
in October 1923. Tom's wife, Sophie, held on until 1930: she was 94 when she died. The First
World War seemed to shatter the family, as it did many others in Australia. Seven Mountjoy
sons went to war. But although only one was killed, the scars of battle, mental and physical,
were borne by the others for life.
It was this war, in more ways than one, that brought Lome into the twentieth century. The
construction of the Great Ocean Road, that runs from Torquay for 300 km down the coast, was
begun in 1918. The new road was built by over 2,000 ex-soldiers, and serves as a memorial to
those who did not return from the war. It cut the coastal journey from Geelong to Lome to half
an hour.
The Great Ocean Road was finally completed in 1932 - 80 adventurous years since Richard
and Lawrence Mountjoy first saw Melbourne, and 130 years since Lt Murray and the crew of
the Lady Nelson first saw Port Phillip Bay and raised the Union Jack on that unknown and
untrammeled shore.
Queen - when the barque sailed from Liverpool on 27 January 1850. Wrong! As it turned out,
they made the journey on two ships, transferring from one to another at Adelaide. They had in
fact left England on the Lady McNaghten, which had sailed from Plymouth in Devon on 24
February, terminating her voyage at Adelaide, where she anchored on 15 June. The
Honeycombes, with other passengers, had then transferred to the Sea Queen, leaving Adelaide
on 28 June.
It was the chance discovery and reading of a diary written by a cabin passenger who sailed on
both ships that eventually set the matter straight. Not only that, the diary, by the Rev John
Mereweather, provided a first-hand account of the Honeycombes' voyage halfway around the
world.
The lesson was: never assume; always check and verify.
Another lesson learned was that passenger lists are not always accurate or exact.
For The Argus, noting the arrival of the Sea Queen at Port Phillip, with the Honeycombes on
board, merely listed them as 'Mr and Mrs Honeycombe and four sons'. It did not give their first
names, nor their ages. Nor does the original shipping register - as the Honeycombes did not
travel steerage.
When faced with such a fact for the first time a problem arises at once. Which Mr and Mrs
Honeycombe emigrated from England in 1850? Who were they - how old - and who were their
sons?
This author, staring at the micro-film screen in Melbourne's La Trobe Library in January, 1988,
wished he had never found The Argus entry. He thought he had carefully accounted for all the
Honeycombes in Australia, and that a Richard Honeycombe and his family were the first to
emigrate to that continent, in 1853. He is appalled. Not more Honeycombes! In 1850! And
four toys!
The thought of undiscovered dynasties deadens his brain. He conjectures, hopefully, that some
mistake has been made. Perhaps the names have been taken down or copied in error. The
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