Chapter 12 - Sophia
It emerged that Sophia was from Spain but had lived in the Philippines since a child. Mother and, together, told him the story of how, in 1851, a young ship’s captain, Edward Martin, from Sydney had sailed into Manila harbour seeking a load of teak for building in Sydney, to be supplemented by such finery and silks as he could arrange from the far east. The merchant who provided the lumber was one Senor Carlos Rodriguez.
Senor Rodriguez was a timber merchant who had prospered on trade with Spain and England. He could also supply, through friends and business partners, many of the other goods Captain Martin sought. He was keen to build his business opportunities in the new south land, they called Australia and to which the settlers were now heading in big numbers.
He had heard rumours of gold discovery in Australia, and from this new wealth saw many opportunities for his business to grow, timber for houses, food for hungry workers, fine textiles for the ladies. All these things he could source locally or from nearby China or Malaya. So he was searching for news about this place, particularly more about the rumoured gold discovery and the prosperity of Sydney.
Young Captain Edward Martin, who had just arrived, having sailed out of Sydney, seemed an ideal source. At first the captain was cautious, polite but non-committal. So Senor Rodriguez invited him to dinner at his house. He hoped, with wine and hospitality, he would learn all the Captain knew. His wife was indisposed so his seventeen year old daughter, Sophia, took on her role as hostess.
Sophia was impeccably groomed, with a pale green silk dress and her black hair tied back. She had a ready smile and laughed at the Captain’s jokes, even when he suspected that that she did not understand. He found her accented English intriguing. His father explained that, for a tutor, she had an elderly man from England, who had lived in Malaya for a time. From him she had picked up a passable command of English.
By the end of the meal, not only had Captain Martin given to Senor Rodriguez all the information he possessed but the Captain was moonstruck.
For the next few days, as the loading proceeded, he did not see Sophia again but could think of little else. Then, on the day of his departure, Sophia accompanied her father on board, when all the bills of lading were finalised, before the ship sailed. While all documents were checked off by the first mate and merchant, before he too made his final check and signed for their receipt, a brief opportunity came to engage Sophia in a conversation. He sensed that she had also been seeking a chance to convey her interest. As Sophia later admitted she was equally enthralled by this tall young sailor with blue eyes and tousled blond hair, so different from her family’s dark looks.
He asked if he could see her again if he returned. She gave him a shy smile and a small nod of his head. She indicated that her father’s permission would be required.
As he weighed anchor and eased off the jetty, both father and daughter waved, and he waved back. Sophia was standing behind her father, out of his line of sight. As she turned to go she touched her fingers to her lips, as if to send a kiss.
Back in Sydney the supplies were well received and he was immediately commissioned for more trips. When next he returned, he went immediately and asked her father’s permission to court his delightful daughter. More easily than expected the father agreed. It was a strictly chaperoned affair.
It could be, he thought, that Senor Rodriguez saw his daughter as making a business opening for him to the port of Sydney.
At this point, Sophia, who was telling Michael the story, as if through her husband’s eyes, laughed. “In fact it was me that helped my father to have this idea. He liked my Edward well enough but did not want him to take me away. It was only when I made my father see the business opportunity in my going to Sydney that he relented. Even then, I had to beg him most earnestly.”
Michael found himself strangely pleased with this thought of Rosie’s mother’s contrivance. It was as if she recognised and gave unstated approval to his own efforts to impress Rosie.
The lady continued. “I also had to encourage Edward so he did not become disheartened with all our courtly manners and slowness. But he genuinely liked my father and also liked his clever business brain, which was like his own. And he knew my father’s affection for me was real as was mine for my father. Though I would have married no one else I would not have gone against my father’s wishes to marry him.”
Rosie continued the telling in the third person. She had heard this story many times, as told to guests at dinner parties by her mother and father.
“Senor Rodriguez had other grown children, a son who helped in the business and a daughter married to a Spanish gentleman in a fine house in Manila, but it was Sophia who was his favourite and brought the fondest smile to his face.
Before his next trip to Manila my father took all the money he could raise to a fine jeweller in Sydney and had him make a fine gold watch for Senor Rodriguez, a delicate silver necklace for his wife and, for his Sophia, a string of pearls.
As soon as he returned to Manila her immediately sought out Senor Rodriguez, gave him the gifts, and asked for his permission to marry his daughter. Senor Rodriguez accepted the gifts and indicated that he would need to time to consider.
The next day the Captain was invited to a dinner with the whole family. He saw that father, mother and daughter were all wearing his gifts. After the meal the ladies retired and Senor Rodriguez and his two brothers considered the request. Finally it was agreed, the proviso that they must marry in the Catholic Church and that any children were to be baptised as Catholics.
It was a big family wedding with more than two hundred guests, held in the white walled church in a town at the edge of Manila, where many other grand houses were. They remained with the family for two weeks before they returned to Sydney to live.”
Sophia continued. “Almost 20 years have passed since we built this house in Balmain into which Rosie was born. I hoped and hoped for a second child, a son for my husband, but God did not grant this. But we were very happy, and Rosie loved her father dearly. Then, one year ago, when the return of Edward’s ship, Adelie, from a voyage was overdue, news came that it had been wrecked in a storm far out in the Southern Ocean. All that was found by another passing ship were a few small pieces of wreckage, just enough to confirm its identity.”
Sophia and Rosie held each other’s hands while she said this, tears in both sets of eyes. They told how they clung to each other in their grief and, already close, this brought them even closer. Now, without a captain’s income, Rosie had taken work, to allow them to keep their fine house in Balmain. It was only since Rosie had seen Michael in the bar that she had begun to smile again.
From this day on Rosie and Michael were rarely apart. Soon they were planning their new house in Smith St. It may be small but it must be beautiful, fine fireplaces and high ceilings, and places for pictures. It would be a fusion of Spanish and English styles. Together with Sophia they gave it the name ‘Casa Ardwyn’, house on a hill, to recognise its shared heritage.
Six months later Sophia summonsed her brother, Jose. He came to Australia to stand in for her Sophia husband, Edward, to take the father’s role to escort the bride. The wedding was held at the Catholic Church, called St Augustine’s at the top of the hill in Balmain.
It was a beautiful spring day, their house was finished and Rosie was radiant, with white scented flowers in her hair, as her Uncle Jose led her down the aisle in the church. His own wife had died two years before and it was decided that he should stay on with his sister to provide family for her and the new couple. Rosie’s friend, Margie, was bridesmaid and Jim Roberts his groom. By the end of the night Jim and Margie were shyly holding hands as well.
Next morning, early, Rosie was up and working in the front garden. Michael went out to see what she was doing and found her placing a small plant, just a few inches high, in the soil. He grasped her from behind and pulled her close. “What are you doing?”
She replied, “When
I was a small girl, my father took me on the boat one time, with Mama, to her house in the Philippines. It was a happy time and the thing I remember best, which we all loved, was the scent in the air around their house. It was of frangipani, so I asked my Uncle to bring us a plant from their house to here, so it could grow in the garden of our new house. Each time I smell it I will have a happy memory of my father. So, even if he cannot watch our children grow, this is something for them to remember him by.
A year after this their first child, Edward, was born, named after Rosie’s father. Then came Robert for Michael’s father, Margaret for his mother and Rosie’s best friend and finally Jimmy for his best man and friend.
It was a happy house, though, as more children came, it soon seemed too small. They added a back verandah for the boys to sleep on and Margaret had the front room. As they grew up there was often the sound of laughter, as games were played in the living room. Jim and Margie were married the next year and they now had two boys and a house down the hill on the other side of Smith St, so the kids were often in and out of each other’s places.
Their building business boomed, and they were now full partners, each at times building their own houses and sometimes working together on the big jobs like a new Town Hall, at the corner of Darling and Montague St.
Finally, after eleven years, when Jimmy was six they all moved into Sophia’s house in Montague St, as it had space for them all. They rented their cottage in Smith St for a year. One day Sophia came to them and said. I know there is room for us all here, and I love all the children, but I love the cottage in Smith St with the frangipani in the front yard and its Spanish name. Every time I see and smell it I am reminded of your father, and I would like to live there with all those good memories.
So it was agreed, it became Sophia’s house. Michael gave it a new coat of paint and built a picket fence and a new fireplace of pink porcelain in the front room for her to sit by, where she could watch the passing life in the street. Jimmy, always her favourite as the youngest, would call to see her almost every day, he loved his beautiful grandmother Sophia, her hair now silver and those dark flashing eyes, so like his Mum’s. Often he would sip a small glass of sherry with her as they together watched the world pass.
As the years went by Jimmy was often in trouble, fights at school and poor attention in classes. It was as if the success of his brothers and sister made him resentful. He left school early and took work in the docks, and then moved out from home to make his own way in the world. Sometimes he would go weeks without seeing his parents, and often he was dirty with ragged clothes. But Sophia never cared. He was still her favourite grandchild and there was always a place for him in her house. With her he was able to feel loved and clever, not the ne’er do well younger brother.
Finally in her 64th year, 1898 just before it came to a close, Sophia grew suddenly ill and weak. By early the next year she was gone to that place where her own husband awaited her.
They buried her in the small cemetery at the foot of the hill at East Balmain, where she could watch the ships come and go, as she had all those years before with her little Rosie. As Jimmy stood there, alone, after the others left, saying his private goodbye, he saw other headstones also standing silent, sentinels to the view; Hannah Rodgers aged 32, Archibald Rodgers aged 9, Tom and Mary McVey, both in their late eighties, were some he remembered.