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anything put in front of him.'
He must have been an engaging character and an entertaining guest, especially in the home of
Dick's widow in Ballarat Road.
It was a house of women, for apart from young Dick (Richard Thomas), who was 23 in 1919, it
was occupied by Fanny, and ultimately by all three of her daughters, Louie (Louisa), Jessie, and
Lily (as she was known then). For in 1920 Louie was abandoned by her husband, Harold
Mudd, and returned to the family home.
Harold's father, Christopher Mudd, is said to have been a botanist and a professor as well as a
Methodist evangelist. As a botanist he is also said to have accompanied the Prince of Wales
(later Edward VII) to India in 1875 and to have received a present from the Prince - a gold tie-
pin which is in the possession of Alan Honeycombe today. Clearly, Professor Mudd was an
199
educated and intelligent man. His son, Harold, who was born in November 1890, was, it
seems, a feckless youth, and something of a disappointment to his father. He was tall (5'11")
with fair hair and blue eyes, and married Louie in May 1913, when he was 22. They lived in
Auburrj,£n eastern suburb of Melbourne, where Harold pursued his occupation of 'engineer1 or
mechanic; they had no children. He didn't rush to volunteer for war service in August 1914, and
it was not until February 1916, when he was 25, that he joined the 3rd Pioneer Battalion, and
served as a private in France. He was overseas for three and a half years (1204 days) and was
discharged on 6 November 1919. Atattooofa woman's bust on his upper left arm was probably
acquired in peacetime France.
Harold's experiences in the war and his natural instability probably increased the returning
soldier's indifference to his wife and to marital bliss.
Soon after his return he took off with the money from their joint savings account, ostensibly to
use it as the deposit on a house. He never returned. Louie was left, aged 29, without any money
or a husband, although he left behind the pay given to him on his discharge. Understandably,
Louie's character changed: she became quite bitter and dogmatic. She wore glasses and her hair
turned grey, and she refused to consider any possibility of a divorce. Although she acquired a
suitor, she couldn't, and wouldn't marry him. For the rest of her life her name was Mudd, Mrs
Mudd. And so was Harold's of course.
Louie was a tailoress. So was 27-year-old Jessie, still unmarried, although she was being
cautiously courted by a gas-fitter called Oscar from Moonnee Ponds. Both sisters, slim and
small, worked away from home, for a firm of men's tailors called Scovell & Spurling at 27
Barkly Street.
The apprentice's printed and written agreement that was signed by the firm, by Jessie and her
parents, in May 1906 still exists. Jessie was then 1454 years old. For four years, from 8.30am
to 6.0pm every day except Sunday, she contracted to serve her employer 'well and diligently'.
In return the employer would pay her 2/6 a week in the first year, 5/- in the second; 7/6 in the
third; and 10/- in the fourth, and she would be taught how to make vests - 'in so far as the said
apprentice is capable of learning such trade or business and is willing to apply herself and
actually so applies herself to learn the same'. If she was absent for any reason she would not be
paid and could be sacked on one week's notice.
How harsh and dreary this seems now, and how ill-paid. But it was regular, useful work, and
would not have been without its lighter and brighter side, girls being girls and liking to gossip and
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