There are plenty of things about Edward Elgar’s Dorabella Cipher that rarely appear in the countless gosh-wow sites that feature it on the web. And arguably one of the biggest of these is its timeline.

1886: The Liszt Fragment

The earliest instance we know of where Elgar used the ‘Dorabella’ shapes to write something down was when jotting something in the left margin of a programme for a Liszt concert at the Crystal Palace (10th April 1886). The best quality image of this fragment appears on p.134 in Craig Bauer’s magisterial “Unsolved!”, which I reproduce here:

This contains a fair few repeated shapes, which would be good grist for the cryptanalytic mill were the fragment not so darned short:

Though Anthony Thorley claimed to have ‘decrypted’ this fragment in (or before) 1977 as “GETS YOU TO JOY, AND HYSTERIOUS”, this looks just plain wrong to Bauer (and to me). This is not only because none of the repeated letter usages line up, but also because it’s basically the wrong length (Thorley’s phrase is 25 letters long, while the fragment is made up of eighteen shapes plus a terminal dash).

If this Liszt fragment is a cipher, I’m sure Big Data people wouldn’t have to try hugely hard to build up a list of all 18-letter English letter sequences with the same aBCDeCfgBhiDCBijkl pattern. Perhaps looking for matches for the 13-letter stretch from BCD to DCB might be a productive exercise?

At the same time, it is tempting to wonder whether Elgar was using these shapes as some kind of idiosyncratic musical notation. However, even though the eighteen-glyph-plus-hyphen fragment appears in the margin beside an eighteen-note arpeggiated melody (Liszt’s “allegretto pastorale” motif, which appears as “an independent episode” according to the programme notes), it has none of its musical symmetry.

So: even though the Liszt fragments looks as though it really ought to be a simple cipher (and, moreover, a simple cipher that Elgar had without any real doubt used many times before), none of the claimed decryptions put forward for it make much sense. It’s possible Elgar was using his own brand of self-pleasing nonsense verbiage but… this is as far as we can get.

1897: The Dorabella Cipher

According to her 1937 book “Edward Elgar: Memories of a Variation”, a young Dora Penny’s first met Edward Elgar on 6th December 1895. Elgar’s wife was an old friend of Dora’s stepmother, and so the couple had come to visit. Elgar and Dora talked, but not about music: rather, he wanted to know about Wolverhampton Wanderers (the club was close to the Penny’s house).

All the same, he did sit down at the piano in the drawing room before luncheon, where Dora turned over the pages for him. This proved to be a challenge, as “[w]hen it came to playing from his own manuscripts you often saw nothing but a few pencilled notes and a mark or two, when he was playing something tremendous – full orchestra and chorus perhaps“, though over time she did become “rather clever at it“.

Elgar first got to see a football match with Dora on 17th October 1896. He subsequently “was much taken with the names of some of the players – particularly Malpas. […] I have known him say when we met: ‘There you are. How’s Malpas?’ – a question I was not always able to answer.

Her book reproduces a letter she received from Elgar with a distinctive red ‘E’ seal: all of which I think gives as close a representation of the likely content of the Dorabella Cipher as can reasonably be hoped for:

Forli Malvern March 4 [1897]
Dear Miss Penny
Here is some locomotive learning; so much nicer than mouldy music.
Alice tells me you are warbling wigorously in Worcestor wunce a week (alliteration archaically Norse).
I am very glad, but on second thoughts, as I have never heard you sing I am not sure: but perhaps some day if you are not rushing away I might arrange to show you over the Cathedral organ, K. John’s tomb and the Dane’s skin: (the Dane is dead).
By the way I have taken to ‘die-sinking’ as a recreation: here on the back of this is my parcel-post seal: I have to register all my MSS & they will not give a receipt unless they are sealed: so I put this on that my works may be Esily distinguished.
Kindest regards to everybody
Believe me sincerely yours
EDWARD ELGAR

The Dorabella Cipher is dated July 14 [18]97 and, if you haven’t already seen it a thousand times or more, looks like this:

This was “the third letter [Dora Penny] had from him, if indeed it is one“: so the March 4 letter was only one of two Elgar had previously written to Dora.

As to what the Dorabella Cipher says: I’ve previously (in 2013) speculated whether the first two words might be, just as with the March 4 letter, FORLI MALVERN. And the obvious suggestion that Elgar might have also included the phrase “How’s Malpas?” is entirely possible, though untested.

All the same, I’d point out that the general character of the glyph shapes seems to change on the third line. That is, the shapes lose their variety, and become visually monotonous, bland, repetitive, even dull. It’s as though Elgar kind of lost momentum, and stopped wanting to sustain the joke. Much as I have suggested with the famous unsolved Zodiac Z340 cipher (where the top half and bottom half have different statistical profiles / patterns), I do wonder whether we might be seeing two different things grafted together here, i.e. that the third line is quite different in nature from the first two. Just a thought.

Note: it was September 1898 when Edward Elgar first called Dora Penny “Dorabella” (as a quotation from Mozart’s Così fan tutte): so the one word we should not expect to see in the Dorabella Cipher is ‘Dorabella’.

1924 or later: the Marco Elgar Cipher

Yet another place where the rotating e/ee/eee letter-shapes appear in Elgar’s papers is where he uses it as a simple pigpen-style cipher:

This we can date as having been written not before 1924, because the plaintext refers to “MARCO ELGAR”, the name of Elgar’s beloved spaniel, and who was born on 27th May 1924 (a picture of his grave is here).

While the most obvious interesting thing about this it doesn’t work for the Dorabella Cipher, there is something about this sheet that gives me the impression that what Elgar is trying to do is to reconstruct his cipher system. It is hardly a coincidence, I would say (apologies to Thomas Ernst) that another phrase enciphered on this same page is “A VERY OLD CYPHER”.

Given the roughly thirty years’ difference between the Dorabella Cipher and the Marco Elgar cipher (and the absence of any other similar letter-shapes in Elgar’s generally quite well-preserved writings), perhaps it was something he amused himself with as a young man, but which he had by the age of about 70 (he was born in 1857) just plain forgotten.

Perhaps the circular shape on this page is some kind of E-based mnemonic (i.e. that the letters of the alphabet were arranged around), but which had slipped his mind. Certainly, you can see the letter E concealed in it without much difficulty, so perhaps that was part of the game?

Undated: The Cryptogram Card

Our final Elgarian cipher shapes first appeared in Craig Bauer’s “Unsolved!”. These are on a card marked “Cryptogram” (hence “The Cryptogram Card”), but are undated:

Though the writing is tiny, there are two main runs of eee-shapes: in the one just above the word “Cryptogram”, the triple curve shape rotates around, as if (as Craig points out) it is doing a gymnastic forward roll. In the run just below the word “Cryptogram, the three sizes of right facing ‘e’ appear in descending order, followed by the next rotation round. There are also a couple of cipher letters at the top.

What we see here are more like pen trials than cryptograms: so in almost all senses there’s really nothing of importance here.

Recent Dorabella Theories

Plenty of clever people – not just Eric Sams and Tony Gaffney – have already put forward their thoughts about (and their attempted decryptions of) the Dorabella Cipher. Needless to say, not more than one of them can be right at the same time. 🙂

But the list of attempts to explain it keeps getting longer. When Klaus Schmeh blogged about the Dorabella in 2018, one of the commenters (Thomas Ernst) put forward – at some length – his notion that Dora Penny might herself have faked all Elgar’s ciphers. This is an interesting suggestion: Dora certainly had full access to Elgar’s archives for decades, so clearly had opportunity – and I can see what he’s getting at when he draws a parallel between Dora Penny’s book and Bettina von Arnim’s (1835) “Goethes Briefwechsel mit einem Kinde”, which contains numerous stories about Goethe falsely adjusted to bring Bettina herself into the foreground (think of it as a kind of literary Forrest Gump).

But I think Ernst is being far too literal when he draws negative conclusions from the way that the post-1924 Marco Elgar page “A VERY OLD CYPHER” alphabet does not work for the Dorabella Cipher. His reasoning (unless I’ve misunderstood it) is that because the two are inconsistent, at least one is not genuine. And he then goes on to argue that if one is not genuine, there’s no reason to think that they are both not genuine.

I would agree that the two are indeed inconsistent. However, the rather different inferences I draw from the Marco Elgar page are that (a) in it, Elgar gives the impression that he was trying to reconstruct a cipher system he had used as a much younger man; and (b) there was some kind of underlying symmetry to the letter-to-glyph assignments in that cipher that he simply could not remember.

So, although there are good reasons we should all be aware of the inconsistency between accounts, Ernst’s move to a full-fat hoaxed-by-Dora theory seems somewhat pessimistic and extravagant to me.

As an aside, I think it would be a good exercise to analyze the Liszt Fragment and the Dorabella Cipher to see if they are consistent or inconsistent with each other (e.g. by comparing letter contact tables etc).

Another commenter (ShadowWolf) used the same Klaus post to put forward his/her own Dorabella decrypt (which, perhaps almost inevitably, involves a cipher-style first pass and a this-is-what-Elgar-really-meant-by-that interpretational second pass, Eric Sams-style):

Plaintext:
PBS AFT DALYRENCE MEET B BECO YOUR IDEDTD ALWASE
E STUNDER E THINC OLL OR IS IT HIS CH GUISE
THNIC ABU IT ACOA

Message:
Problems after dalliance meet is because your identity always
a stutter I think all or is it his charming guise?
Think about it acolyte.

In a similar vein, Cipher Mysteries readers may possibly recall that I posted about Allan Gillespie’s Dorabella Cipher theory back in 2013: his (somewhat hybridized) theory was that the plaintext began “ForlE Malvern Link”, the encipherment used a Vigenère cipher system, but (not entirely unlike Thomas Ernst’s theory) it had been “concocted by someone other than Elgar (possibly in the run-up to WWII when GC&CS were recruiting; possibly with Dora Powell’s connivance, more likely not)“.

Another Dorabella solver is Mark Pitt, a Cleveland police officer “with an MA in crime patterns” who has already had the oxygen of publicity in the Times, Daily Mail, Daily Telegraph and Guardian (to name but four). Pitt has also claimed to have decrypted the Liszt fragment: his solution for both seems to be based around Schooling’s cipher that Elgar famously cracked, with the key “PRUDENTIA”. I suspect Pitt has a (not very active) Twitter account, but that’s just my hunch. A (paywalled) Telegraph article on him from early 2019 is here.

The Two Massey Observations

Finally, a very different take on the Dorabella Cipher has been put forward by Keith Massey in an 11-minute YouTube video from 2017 (but which I only stumbled upon recently), based on two very specific observations.

His first observation is that the Dorabella Cipher contains long sequences of glyphs where no two adjacent glyphs have the same number of loops. Specifically, the first line has a sequence with 12 loop-number-differing glyphs in a row; the second line has a sequence with 9 loop-number-differing glyphs in a row; while the third line has a sequence with 8 loop-number-differing glyphs in a row; all three sequences are near the start of their respective lines. Massey’s control experiments (two of them, which one might reasonably argue is a little bit lightweight) each yielded a single maximum of only 5 or 6 loop-number-differing glyphs in a row. (A more Oranchek-esque researcher would surely have done the experiment by anagramming the Dorabella a billion times over, but I suspect the results would have been not wildly dissimilar.)

Massey’s second observation is that the Dorabella Cipher contains way too many pairs of opposed symbols (i.e. where a glyph is immediately followed by a glyph with its same basic shape but where that second shape is rotated by 180 degrees). Massey calculates that this should on average ~5.3 times for 87 characters, but it instead occurs 12 times.

If we assume all 24 shapes are equally likely to occur (which isn’t true) across the Dorabella’s 87 characters, the probability of 13 exact opposites occurring is ((1/24)^13)*((23/24)^(87-1-13)), which Google tells me is 5.1046414e-20 (i.e. about one in twenty billion billion). Again, a more realistic (i.e. Oranchakian) way of doing this would be to anagram the ciphertext billions of times and see how often twelve exact opposites occur (i.e. using the actual distribution rather than an ideal [perfectly flat] distribution). My prediction here is that the probability there would still be no higher than one in a billion billion, so I believe this too is likely to be a statistically significant result.

Massey thinks the final nail in the Dorabella’s cryptological coffin is that these two patterns don’t overlap: he believes that

Massey’s overall conclusion is that that Elgar created the Dorabella Cipher as nonsense text to resemble a ciphertext as a joke on Dora Penny, but that this nonsense text eventually escaped to become a joke on all of us.

Even if you disagree with the full strength of his conclusion, I suspect these two Massey observations will prove difficult for anybody proposing a simple MASC as a solution (albeit typically with an interpretational second phase) to satisfactorily account for what we see in the Dorabella Cipher.

Thoughts and Conclusions

I have to say that I’m very largely with Keith Massey here, insofar as he is pointing out statistical features of the Dorabella Cipher that are highly improbable. It is almost impossible not to see that these sit awkwardly with the traditionalist (one might call it ‘Samsian‘) reading of the cryptogram’s system as a pigpen-style simple substitution cipher applied to an idiosyncratic Elgarian nonsense-wonsense text. It would be good if Massey’s observations were to be confirmed in a more statistically robust manner, but I would be surprised if the actual results proved to be vastly different.

My own suspicion (just as in 2013) remains that the Dorabella Cipher may turn out to be a stegotext visually concealing a guessable personal message (e.g. “FORLI MALVERN”) rather than a cryptotext mathematically concealing a plaintext. And I believe this is far from inconsistent with Massey’s observations, though only for the left hand half of the three lines.

But even so, I’m really not at all convinced that his observations hold true for the Liszt Fragment, which I believe was written in the same “VERY OLD CYPHER” that Elgar was trying to reconstruct in the Marco Elgar page.

So there is perhaps still work to be done on a genuine Elgar cipher here, even if Massey has indeed managed to nail down the Dorabella MASC coffin (and all credit to him if he has!).

On board the S.S. Ormonde (at the same time as both Triantafillos Balutis and Stelios Balutis) in February 1923, there was a very special passenger: Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich.

Let’s just say I probably won’t ever get the chance to write another blog post with even half as many references to smoking as this. On with the story!

The Duchess in Australia

The Perth Daily News of 8 Feb 1923 launched the story:

A RUSSIAN PRINCESS PASSES THROUGH ON WORLD TOUR.
Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich, is aboard the liner Ormonde, which arrived at Fremantle this morning. Her Highness is an Englishwoman by birth, and is proceeding to Sydney, where she will be joined by His Highness the Grand Duke. Afterwards they will go to America on a tour round the world. It is stated that her Highness was formerly married to an Englis[h]man and inherited considerable money. Her present marriage took place, it is stated, only a few months ago.

The story then became more elaborate, as per the Melbourne Herald (17 Feb 1923):

If any one woman more than another is entitled to a place in the pages of a novel, she is the Princess Ivanovitch, who is at present on a tour of Australia. She has visited practically every place worth seeing in the world. She has been engaged to one of the richest men in the world, and she has married royalty. These are few of the things that have been crammed into the life of this remarkable woman. Cutting a unique figure in her quaint dress, shoes and hat — things that would being envy to the heart of a Brittany girl — and puffing smoke from a delicately-rolled cigarette, in true Bohemian style, the Princess, an elderly woman, strolled unaccompanied around Melbourne all day yesterday until late In the evening, admiring, or criticising the outstanding points of interest. Only eighteen months ago the Princess, who is an Englishwoman, having been born in Lancashire, married the Grand Duke Prince Ivanovitch, of Russia, a second cousin to the late Czar. The wedding was celebrated at San Diego. California. They had been intimately acquainted for many years.
Yearning for Travel
According to the story the Princess related to a Herald representative, the only two countries of any which she has not visited are Russia and New Zealand. She admitted that she had an unquenchable yearning for travel, and could hardly bear to remain in the one place for long. Most of her life has been taken up in travelling. The longest spell in one country she had experienced for more than 20 years was her stay in England, during the war period, when the existing regulations compelled women to remain in the country. Before marrying: Prince Ivanovitch, she was Mrs Brewster-Fuller. She has only one child living, a daughter, who is married to the Dutch Ambassador at Pekin. Prior to meeting her late husband, the Duchess was engaged to one of the wealthiest men in the world — Mr Vercker-Vercloyle-Cloy, who was on his way to New York, where the marriage was to be celebrated, when he died from double pneumonia. He contracted the illness after having jumped overboard from a ship on the South American coast in an attempt to rescue a drowning sailor.
Marie Antoinette Pearls
The entire estate of Mr Vercker-Vercloyle-Cloy was willed to the Princess. Included in the personalty left by the deceased millionaire were celebrated pearls — a three string necklace originally the possession of Marie Antoinette. “I’m terrified to wear them,” the Princess admitted. She stated that they are safely deposited in a Paris bank.
Speaking of the opinions she had already formed of Melbourne, the Princess grew enthusiastic regarding the Botanical Gardens and St. Kilda road. She said the gardens were beautiful, one of the best she has seen. While loth to draw comparisons, she couldn’t name another road in the world which excels our highway in beauty. Nevertheless she is, generally speaking. disappointed with Melbourne, particularly with the buildings and shop window- displays. “They are comparatively poor,” she remarked, citing those of Valparaiso and Buenos Ayres and other large cities south of the equator, as being a long way ahead in this respect. Princess Ivanovitch was at Oberammergau when the famous Passion play was enacted. She describes the efforts of Anton Bang and his followers as simply wonderful. Throughout her travels the Princess has kept a minute diary, and contemplates writing the history of her career.

By the time she reached Sydney, her story had expanded yet further (Brisbane Telegraph, 20 Feb 1923):

Mystery surrounds an Englishwoman described as the Grand Duchess the Princess Ivanovitch, who arrived in Sydney yesterday, aboard the Ormonde. When it was objected that that name was not to be found on the rolls of the Russian nobility she admitted that it was an assumed one. She said her husband had never told her his real name, because if it became known the Bolsheviks would confiscate his estates. She thought he was a Romanoff. “Nevertheless,” she said, “he commands what once was the Czar’s special regiment. He wears a uniform of white cloth, covered with gold […] gold helmet, with rare white plume The visitor told an extraordinary story of romance, millions, and marriage. “The Grand Duke,” she said, “is coming to Australia in the most gorgeous yacht in the world, valued at £250,000, to join me, preparatory to our sailing for New Zealand, Samoa, Honolulu, and Japan, where he resides.” Her only daughter, she said, was the wife of the ambassador for Holland. She was a widow until 18 months ago, when, she said, she married the Grand Duke in America. She was in her sixties at the time.

The Warwick Daily News (also 20 Feb 1923) named her late husband as instead “Bereker Perhoyle Clay”, and said that she had inherited twenty two million dollars, but her Russian husband “would not allow her to touch a penny of it”, la-la-la.

Inevitably, the Perth Daily News (20 Feb 1923) was starting to smell a rat:

A SHABBY “ROYALTY” – IS SHE A PRINCESS? – SYDNEY SUSPECTS HER.
SYDNEY, Tuesday.
Mystery surrounds the woman who claims to be the Russian Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich. Doubt has been thrown on her story. She appeared in the lounge of a fashionable hotel to-day clad in a huge white fur coat, torn in many places, and covering apparently a dilapidated blue dress. Her hands were swathed in dull jewellery ware, consisting, it seemed, of something like moonstones. She wore two huge bracelets on her arm, looking like replicas of handcuff chains. When she was told that there is no record in Russian royalty of the name of Ivanovich she admitted that this was an assumed name, and that it was used to mislead the Bolsheviks. “My husband is a Duke,” she says. “He will be here soon.” In the meantime Sydney is wondering what will be the next move of the unique visitor.

By the 21 Feb 1923, the Brisbane Daily Standard was rather enjoying the whole show:

Meanwhile Sydney is wondering what she will say next. At any rate, she is having the time of her life, even if she does smoke Capstan cigarettes.

Before she left Australia, she went up to the Jenolan Caves, travelling in the second class smoking compartment. And then, finally, she left Sydney aboard the steamer Manuka, according to the Melbourne Herald (23 Feb 1923):

SHOOK HER FISTS
Russian Duchess Angered
THREATENS TO DUCK REPORTERS
SYDNEY, Friday.

“If my husband the Duke was here he would pitch you into the sea. And if reporters or photographers dare to board my yacht, the Henriette, when she arrives here. I shall recommend that they be thrown overboard.” So sick of Sydney reporters and photographers is the woman who protests that she is the Grand Duchess of Ivanovitch that she shook her fists at pressmen who tried to bid her au revoir on her departure for New Zealand by the steamer Manuka today. The Duchess, although she had only been on board 30 minutes, was extremely popular with fellow travellers. She was found sitting forward on the main saloon deck as usual, puffing away at a cigarette.
A group of young men and several ladies was standing about her, and she was telling them a wonderful story of mansions and yachts. All seemed interested.
“Photograph Me in Bed?”
The duchess refused to be interviewed and continued to speak to her group of listeners. “Since my arrival in Sydney on Monday,” she said, “no fewer than 98 reporters have visited me. When the Ormonde reached Sydney, nine reporters came into my little cabin, and I remonstrated with them for I was not fully dressed.”
The Duchess began to cry. As she wiped her eyes, she continued: “One photographer was extremely persistent. He wanted to photograph me, and I said ‘What! Photograph me in bed? Certainly not!” “I have had a most unpleasant stay in Sydney, and I am sure my husband will protest when he gets here in his yacht. Perhaps he will not come to Sydney now.”
When the Manuka left the wharf the Duchess was leaning over the rails and smiling wistfully.

The Melbourne Herald ran a picture of her in its story the next day:

The Duchess in New Zealand

In Wellington, she stayed in the Midland Hotel, where the New Zealand Herald (3 March 1923) noted:

The titled visitor was an elderly woman and her clothes were hardly in keeping with her name, for she was dressed in a stained skirt and a much-travelled fur coat. Neither did her method of lighting a match upon her shoe suggest the grand ducal manner.

The Newcastle Sun (14 Mar 1923) continued the story:

GUEST OF HIS MAJESTY
RUSSIAN “PRINCESS”
Overstepping the Mark
WELLINGTON (N.Z.), Wednesday.

From her grand palaces at Moscow and Petrograd, and her “lovely little villa at Monte Carlo,” the “Grand Duchess Prince Ivanovich,” or, to use her numerous English names, Harriet Rushford Henrietta Southall Fuller, paid an involuntary visit to Ashburton, and as a first offending inebriate was a guest at His Majesty’s local lock-up. Fuller arrived at Ashburton on Tuesday by the Christchurch-Dunedin [ex]press, in a state of drunkenness, according to the evidence at the court, when a charge in accordance with her condition at the time of her arrival was preferred against her. It was stated that on leaving Christchurch, the ‘princess’ indulged in liquid refreshment, whisky, and so generously did she treat herself that she rapidly became a source of great annoyance to lady travellers. At Rakala, the guard decided that the “princess” had overstepped the mark, and relieved her of the rest of her whisky. Her indignation knew no bounds. Muddled with drink, and seething with temper, she achieved a remarkable state of untidiness. Her clothing was terribly disarranged. Her boots were found in another part of the car, and her stockings flapped about her ankles.
“QUITE NICE”
Fuller became altogether too unladylike in every action for her fellow passengers, and when the train reached Ashburton a constable invited the “princess” to come along. Fortunately she was under the impression that she was to be motored to Timaru, which she thought “quite nice” on the part of her Ashburton friends. The journey, however, ended abruptly at the lock-up. When she sobered up she also woke up the entire community. For a lady of 63 summers her voice possessed remarkable volume. She told the senior sergeant that who would tell Lord Jellicoe of the “frightful insult.” The sergeant, however, told the “Princess” that Lord Jellicoe had instructed him to put her in the cells. This calmed the “Princess”, strange to say. At nine o’clock the sergeant read the Riot Act, for the atmosphere was being rudely disturbed, and the neighbors were afforded little rest. Fuller had the modest sum of £8 in her possession, but she also possesses an elaborate looking passport, and much correspondence which certainly indicated that she was “somebody,” somewhere. The senior sergeant allowed her out on bail, in the sum of £3, and there was no appearance of the “Princess” in court. A constable described the appearance of the accused. “She was a disreputable sight, and in a beastly state of drunkenness,” he said. “It’s a very bad case,” observed the bench, and inflicted a fine of £3.

The NZ Truth (which I didn’t know about before) was quite taken with her, publishing this rather flattering drawing:

From Dunedin (where she had some difficulty find a hotel room), she moved onwards “by the southern express on her way to Queenstown”. She also caused a minor commotion at Timaru station, where she grabbed a refill of whisky and cigarettes in a local hotel, before legging it back yelling loudly just as the train was about to depart.

And then it was time for the journey to end, as per the Otago Daily Times of 29 March 1923:

The “Grand Duchess Princess Ivanovitch,” or Mrs Brewster Fuller, as she is otherwise known, returned to the North Island last week, and, after visiting Rotorua, will leave Auckland on April 15 for Honolulu and China, to pay a visit to her daughter, who, she says, is “Lady” Oudenyk, wife of the Ambassador for the Netherlands at Peking. The lady persists in the statement that she is the wife of the Grand Duke, whom she expects to meet in Auckland next week. They have houses, she asserts, at Rome, Venice, Paris, Monte Carlo, Lake Como (Switzerland), London, Folkestone, and Sicily, besides three homes in Russia, where her husband has lost £150,000 a year through the depreciation of the rouble. She is alleged to have recently received a letter from her agent in England, giving her news of her tenants, and stating that, as things were improving, her income would be in the region of £1200 a year from now on.

Home Again

By 19 October 1923, Mrs Fuller had arrived back in the UK, telling yet another tall tale that the Brisbane Daily Standard picked up on:

The first prize in the Best Lie About Russia competition is awarded to the London newspaper that published the following:
“STARVING RUSSIA.
The Grand Duchess Ivanovitch, cousin to the late Czar, travelling incognito as Mrs. Fuller, arrived at Southampton from Canada recently. She said that the Grand Duke recently sent 35 ship-loads of grain to his peasants, but the Bolsheviks became aware of its arrival and burned all the vessels to the water’s edge.
The starving people, who had gathered in the hope of obtaining some of the grain, rushed into the sea up to their necks, seized the burning corn and extinguishing the flames, swallowed it greedily.”
This is on such a magnificent scale that comment is difficult; but I must say that I especially like the expression, “his peasants.” – From the London “Daily Herald.”

No doubt assiduous researchers will be able to find countless other news articles documenting the Duchess’ haphazard (and smoke-filled) travels through Hawaii, America and Canada: but this is where I’ve drawn the line.

Oh, And One Last Thing…

Before all the above happened, the Manawatu Standard published this tiny news snippet on 8 Feb 1923:

The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess Duorak Ivanovitch have reached Sicily in their yacht, from Venice, en route for New Zealand.

Similarly, the Feilding Star (8 Feb 1923) noted:

The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess Dvorak Ivanovitch, left Sicily in their yacht en route for New Zealand last month.

In fact, the same story appeared in Brisbane’s Daily Standard as far back as 27 Dec 1922, which I suspect was when the original set of cables was sent, warning New Zealand of the approach of Typhoon Brewster-Fuller:

We Breathe Again.
The cable man says that the Grand Duke and Duchess Bvorak [sic] Ivanovitch are yachting to New Zealand. It’s a comfort, anyway, to know that all the grand dukes were not thrown into the bread line when the Soviets took over.

Given that I’ve paid my findmypast subscription (and that money’s not coming back any time soon), I thought it might be interesting to look at the records it holds for Thomas Beale Jr‘s mother Chloe Delancy / Delancey. We know a fair bit about Thomas Beale Sr, so why not find out more about his mother?

Chloe Delancy / Delancey

As far as I can see, “Cloe Delancy” only appears in Botetourt County in the 1810 and 1820 US census records. This would seem to imply that she married, moved, or died before the 1830 census – given that there are plenty of holes in the census records, it’s sensible to be at least a bit defensive.

In the 1810 census records, she is apparently living alone (“Number of free white females age 26-44” = 1) – every other column is blank. (Hence it would seem that Thomas Beale Jr may not have been living with her then.) Other than being in Botetourt County VA, no location is given.

In the 1820 census records, there is one “free white female age 45 and up” (presumably her), one “free white female age 10-16”, and one “free white female under age 10”. The location is noted in the margin as “Fin.”, which is without any doubt Fincastle.

There’s no obvious sign of her in the 1830 Census, yet that was the year that the case Delancey vs Beale was in the Supreme Court in Louisiana, so she was presumably still alive then (unless you know better?).

(Note that there is an online genealogy mentioning a Chloe Emaline Delancy b. 1834 Rockingham NC to William D. Delancey (1785-1860) and Catherine [nee Roach] (1799-1860): but this person seems entirely unconnected.)

Virginia Cloes / Chloes?

The 1830 Census has a Chloe Switcher living in Botentourt County, but she is a F 30-40 living with a M 15-20. Similarly, the 1840 Census has a Cloe Switzer, but she is a F 40-50 living with a M 20-30: I think it’s a pretty safe bet that the two entries refer to the same person, and that this probably isn’t Chloe Delancy.

Broadening the search a little, there are eight women called Cloe in Virginia listed in the 1830 Census: Cooper, Masters, Myho, Powelson, Simmons, Whichard, and Withers (though note that these are all the head of their household).

  • Cloe Cooper: 1 x F under 5, 1 x F 20-30, 1 x F 50-60
  • Cloe Masters: 1 x M under 5, 1 x M 5-10, 2 x M 15-20, 1 x M 20-30, 1 x F 2-30, 3 x F 30-40, 1 x F 60-70
  • Cloe Myho (actually Mayho): no details of household supplied
  • Cloe Powelson: 1 x M 10-15, 1 x M 15-20, 1 x M 20-30, 1 x F 10-15, 1 x F 15-20, 1 x F 40-50 [also in 1840 and 1850 censuses]
  • Cloe Simmons: 1 x F 5-10, 1 x F 50-60
  • Cloe Whichard: 1 x M 30-40, 1 x F 20-30, 1x F 50-60
  • Cloe Withers: 1 x M 30-40, 1 x F 15-20, 1 x F 70-80

Similarly, there are sixteen women called Chloe in Virginia listed in the 1830 Census: Atkins, Buske, Cheshire, Coleman, Ellison, Gaskins, Goodrich, James, Lunsford, Mifflin, Mills, Pitman, Powell, Sitcher, Thomas, and Vanlandingham.

  • Chloe Atkins: 1 x M 20-30, 1 x F 15-20, 2 x F 50-60 [also in the 1840 census]
  • Chloe Buske: 1 x M 20-30, 3 x F 20-30, 1 x F 50-60
  • Chloe Cheshire: 1 x M under 5, 1 x M 15-20, 1 x F under 5, 1 x F 10-15, 1 x F 20-30, 1 x F 50-60 [also in the 1810 census]
  • Chloe Coleman: 1 x M under 5, 1 x M 20-30, 2 x F 5-10, 2 x F 30-40, 1 x F 60-70
  • Chloe Ellison: 1 x F 50-60 [also in the 1810, 1820 and 1840 censuses]
  • Chloe Gaskins: 1 x M under 5, 1 x M 5-10, 1 x M 10-15, 1 x F 30-40 [also in the 1850 census]
  • Chloe Goodrich: 1 x F 60-70
  • Chloe James: 1 x F 20-30, 1 x F 70-80
  • Chloe Lunsford: 2 x F 15-20, 1 x F 50-60
  • Chloe Mifflin: no details given
  • Chloe Mills: 1 x M 10-15, 1 x M 15-20, 1 x M 20-30, 2 x F 5-10, 1 x F 15-20, 1 x F 20-30
  • Chloe Pitman: 1 x F 50-60 [also in the 1840 census]
  • Chloe Powell: 1 x M 5-10, 1 x F 5-10, 1 x F 30-40
  • Chloe Sitcher/Switcher/Switzer: 1 x M 15-20, 1 x F 30-40
  • Chloe Thomas: 1 x F 20-30, 1 x F 60-70 [also in the 1820 census]
  • Chloe Vanlandingham: 1 x M 10-15, 1 x F under 5, 1 x F 10-15, 1 x F 15-20, 1 x F 40-50

Note that Cloe Cooper is also in the 1840 Census, but listed as F 80-90.

Any Other Mentions?

There is one possible mention I found, which is in the Annals of Southwest Virginia 1769-1800 (Lewis Preston Summers, 1929), p.465. There, the entry for 10th February 1796 in the minutes of the County Court mentions that the grand jury presented “Isaac Dawson and Chloe Delaney for living in an unlawful way”.

Thoughts on the US Census

I have to say I was expecting to find a little more than I did. It may be that we now have a weak indication that Chloe Delancey had two younger daughters we were (or, at the very least, I was) previously unaware of: but the limitations of the census data mean that we have (I think) no obvious paths to go down to find their names.

Has anyone got any better information on Chloe Delancey and/or her possible two daughters than this?

I thought my last post had gone through pretty much all the sources available online relating to Triantafillos Balutis, the Melbourne waiter who the PRO Victoria flagged as possibly being the mysterious “Balutz” at Christos Paizes’ Lonsdale Street baccarat club. But, thanks to the almost endless spelling variations of his names, it turns out I was wrong.

Which is good!

1930 Naturalisation Certificate

For a start, the NAA has a file marked “Treantafellous BALUTES – Naturalisation certificate” (NAA A1, 1930/1546), which is the correspondence and certificate (“A.A. 6302”) relating to Triantafillos Balutis’ naturalisation application.

From this, we learn that:

  • his address was Victoria Hotel, 404 Bourke Street, Melbourne;
  • he had no wife or children;
  • he had placed advertisements for his naturalisation application in the Argus and Age, both of the 24 Jan 1930;
  • he was 5ft 5in, black hair, brown eyes, small mole on right cheek;
  • he was born on 5 Aug 1886, in Cavalla in Greece;
  • his father was Dameanos Balutes, and his parents were both Greek;
  • he arrived in Melbourne from Greece on the 16 Feb 1923 on the S.S. Ormonde;
  • after leaving Greece but before coming to Australia, he lived in the USA for eight years;
  • he was a café proprietor, who had been running a café at 426 Bourke Street, Melbourne for four years and five months; and
  • he was represented by Messrs. Luke Murphy & Co, Solicitors, 422 Bourke Street, Melbourne.

The general remarks section on the form asserts:

Applicant has been established in business in Bourke St. at the Canberra Café during the past 4½ years. He has opened up a further business at Warrnambool for the manufacture of cheese, which he proposes to export to Egypt & U.S.A. Applicant is of the keen type of business man & gained a good business knowledge during his residence in the U.S.A. for about 8 years. There is nothing known against applicant.

His three referees were two householders and a police officer:

  1. Donald Mackintosh, Gun Maker, of 2 Thistle Street, Essendon
  2. Horace Govett James, Business Manager, of 3 Sunnyside Grove, Bentleigh
  3. Sidney James Kirby, Constable of Police, of Russell Street, Melbourne

From this, we learn that – despite the apparently contradictory evidence presented in the previous post – all the evidential threads tie together, i.e. there was only one Triantafillos Balutis, even though his date of birth seems somewhat uncertain. His full name would therefore have been Triantafillos Dameanou Balutis.

Note that when he was born in Kavala, it was part of the Ottoman Empire (Greece absorbed it in 1912 during the Balkan War). So his nationality at the time of his birth was Turkish, but later became Greek: hence he was both Greek and Turkish, depending on how you asked the question. Nationality can be quite a fluid thing!

George Vrachnas & Jack Lenos

The NAA lists two other documents relating to him. The first, dated 1930, is item NAA: A10075, 1930/21 (item barcode: 3140391) is “BALUTES Treantafellous versus VRACKNAS George; LENOS Jack”, and relates to a cause (complaint) brought by one party against another before a single judge. (Not yet online.)

According to findmypast, George Vrachnas was born in 1890: and had a restaurant in the ground floor of Traynor House, 287 Elizabeth street. Though Vrachnas & Lenos appear in a number of other cases that appear in Trove (e.g. Wolff vs. Vrachnas and Lenos; Boyd vs. Vrachnas and Lenos; Palmer vs Vrachnas and Lenos, etc, while 1932 saw the inevitable Vrachnas vs Lenos), I so far haven’t found anything relating to Balutes vs Vrachnas and Lenos.

We can see a separate case being taken against the pair in 6 Nov 1931:

IN THE COURT OF PETTY SESSIONS, HOLDEN AT WATER POLICE OFFICE, SYDNEY. No. of Writ. 5993 of 1931. No. of Plaint, 5680 of 1931. THE NATIONAL CASH REGISTER CO. OF A/SIA, LTD., Plaintiff; and GEORGE VRACHNAS and JACK LENOS, trading as Vrachnos and Lenos, 215 Oxford-street, Sydney, Defendant. UNLESS the amount of £14/17/11, together with all fees due herein be paid at or before the hour of noon To-day, Friday, the sixth day of November, 1931, the Bailiff will sell by Public Auction, at Water Police Office, the Right, Title, and Interest of the defendants in goods which are the subject of Conditional Bill of Sale dated 16th July, 1930, No. 13779. last renewed 9th September, 1931, between George Vrachnas and John Lenos (Mortgagors) and John Vrachnas (Mortgagee), and the Right, Title, and Interest of the defendant George Vrachnas In goods which are the subject of conditional Bill of Sale dated 11th October, 1930, No. 19858. between George Vrachnas (Mortgagor) and A. A. Marks, Limited (Mortgagees). Dated at the Court of Petty Sessions abovementioned, this twelfth day of October. 1931.

Incidentally, Trove mentions that Gwendoline Vrachnas was charged in June 1932 with being a manager of a common gaming house in Elizabeth-street, Sydney, in relation to “the sale of share tickets in the State Lottery”.

As a final aside, there’s an oral history recording of George Vrachnas online here, reminiscing about his life. In one part he mentions the effect of the Depression upon his business (suddenly none of the businesses renting from him could pay their rents, and the whole setup collapsed), which was the point in his life when his fortunes dramatically changed.

Police Records

The last of the NAA records is simply titled “Treantafellous Balutes” (NAA: B741, V/7104, Item barcode: 1140692, Location: Melbourne), and contains (or, at least, seems to contain) details of his Victoria police record from 1930 to 1949. Even if Balutis wasn’t in the Victoria Police Gazette for 1944 / 1945 / 1946, it would seem that there was still police interest in his activities.

The B741 series:

[…] comprises files relating to the investigation of all criminal offences committed against the Commonwealth, the contravention of Commonwealth Acts or of State Acts committed on Commonwealth property; the pursuit of recalcitrant debtors to the Commonwealth; and inquiry into the whereabouts of persons requested to be traced by government departments, organisations such as the Red Cross, International Tracing Service, Australia House, private persons or by diplomatic or consular representation. Investigations carried out at the request of government departments include areas such as narcotics trafficking, impersonation, bribery, “forge and utter”, ships’ deserters, enemy aliens in wartime, prohibited immigrants, naturalisation, and rape on Commonwealth property. In most instances a separate file was raised for each particular case requested to be investigated.

It therefore may well also be that Balutis appears in Victoria’s B745 series (because, as it says, “No items from the series are on RecordSearch“):

Name (offenders) index cards to: (1) Correspondence files, single number series with “V” (Victoria) prefix, 1924 – 1962 (2) Correspondence files re Police investigations, annual single number series, 1963 –

The series is the name index to all persons committing an offence against the Commonwealth and/or contravening Commonwealth legislation or State legislation on Commonwealth property, persons whose whereabouts have or are being investigated, and up until 1963, recalcitrant debtors to the Commonwealth.

The Shadow of the Depression

The Depression cast a deep, malign shadow over the life of George Vrachnas, and it seems to have had the same effect on Triantafillos Balutis.

Even though he applied for his naturalisation in January 1930, that was right at the end of the good times. Before that, you can see from Trove that Vrachnas’ café had held regular social meetings and dances, often raising money for war veterans: but now the 1920s were gone, and a different kind of economic reality was in place.

For Balutis, I think you can see the same thing via the advertisements in Trove, from the 2 Jan 1930 (just before his naturalisation)…

Waitress, experienced, start at once, no Sunday work. Canberra Cafe, 426 Bourke st.

…to the 10 Feb 1930 (just after his naturalisation)…

WAITRESS, 16 to 18 years, ready to start, permanent. Canberra Cafe, cr. Lonsdale and Swanston sts.

…to, alas, 13 Dec 1930

THURSDAY, 18th DECEMBER. At Half-past 2 o’Clock. On the Premises, 426 Bourke-street, MELBOURNE. Under Power of Bill of Sale No. 173,535, instructed by Mr. A. H, HILL, 11 Elizabeth-Street, Melbourne. COMPLETE FURNISHINGS AND PLANT OF CANBERRA CAFE. SODA FOUNTAIN, SODA WATER MACHINE, JACKSON BOILER COMPLETE With Pie Heater; NATIONAL CASH REGISTER, TOLEDO SCALES, 2 Ice Chests, Cutlery, Crockery, Glassware, &c. The Whole To Be Offered As a Going Concern. Full Particulars in Future Advertisement. R. RICHARDSON, Auctioneer, 18 Queen-street.

Whatever the relationship between Balutis and Vrachnas & Lenos was, 1930 seems to have been the year everything went wrong both in the macro-economy and in the Melbourne micro-economy. It was not only the year that Balutis became a naturalised Australian, but also the year that the Australian economy – as the phrase goes – went South.

I think it’s fair to say that a lot of dreams died that year.

What Would I Like To See Next?

As always, the archive records accessible online are only the tip of a giant evidential iceberg. So, the (non-online) documents I’d really like to see next are all held in Melbourne archives:

  1. “Treantafellous Balutes” B741 V/7104 (barcode 1140692) from NAA Melbourne (99 Shiel St, North Melbourne). All I know about this is that it covers the date range 1930-1949: beyond that, all outcomes are possible.
  2. I’d also like to know if any Balutis / Balutes / Balutz is mentioned in the B745 series. This is the set of name / offender index cards maintained by Victoria’s Investigation Branch: so if anyone had any contact with the Victoria police from 1924-1962, their card should be there. Having said that, it’s not entirely clear to me from the NAA online description whether B745 is at North Melbourne at all. Getting some clarity on this would be very good!
  3. As an aside: if it turns out that B745 is accessible, I’d also (just in case, you never know, it’s possible that, etc) really like to see the index cards of all the (T or J first initial) Kean / Keane individuals. Because if it were to turn out that any of those had been charged with nitkeeping prior to 1 Dec 1948, we might just have struck gold. 😉
  4. Finally, I’d also like to see Stelios Balutes’ death records (he died on 09 Jul 1977). According to PRO Victoria’s website, their archives hold both his will (PROV ref: VPRS 7591/ P4 unit 757, item 836/255) and his probate records (PROV ref: VPRS 28/ P8 unit 494, item 836/255), both of which I’d like to see. I’d guess that they are stored together (because they share the same item number), but you never can tell with archives. These are held at PRO Victoria’s North Melbourne site (also at 99 Shiel St, North Melbourne).

I just received this very helpful email from the Public Record Office Victoria, in response to a request I put in a few days ago to have a look at the Victoria Police Gazette 1945, 1946, and the two photographic supplements covering that period:

The Victorian Police Gazette (1853 – 1971) is not actually a part of our collection, though we do keep a copy of it in our reading rooms for reference purposes. There are several indexes in the back of each volume and each volume contains a single year of records, in the later years each volume also contains a photograph section.

Most volumes contain indexes to weekly photographs, fortnightly photographs, prisoners discharged from gaol and a general index. I have had a brief look in the index of 1944, 1945 and 1946 and unfortunately none of the names you mentioned appeared.

After reading the article you cited, it does not appear that these men were charged with anything. They appear on an ‘affidavit’ and the house was eventually listed as a common gaming house and was sold not long after that, by Paizes.

I thought the name Balutz might be a nickname but after seeing one of the other men was a Richard Thomas known as Abishara and tracing him shows his name was really Abishara, a Syrian born man who later became ‘Donegal Dick’, I wasn’t so sure.

When I put Balutz into an electoral roll search, the name Balutis came up as an alternative, possibly might be this man, but again nothing comes up in the Police Gazette. Treantaillous Balutis was a greek waiter, living in Melbourne in the 1930’s and 1940’s, as I am sure you are aware Paizes was also a greek immigrant. not sure if that is relevant or not.

You could try looking through the records for Melbourne Courts (VA 518) to see if these names appear, as an option.

So, even though this line of research started with a (single) mention of a Balutz, might he actually have been a Balutis?

Triantafillos Balutis…?

It’s a reasonable suggestion: so let’s look for “Treantaillous Balutis”, see what we find? (Note that the proper Greek spelling (I think) of his first name would be closer to “Triantafillos”.)

  • Findmypast has a Triantafylos Balotis (brother to Vassilios Balotis) arriving at New York from Piraeus on the Themistocles (NARA publications M237 and T715) in 1910, but no original image to check. Note that Theodoroula Balotis (mother of Vassilios Balotis) also arrived on the Themistocles in 1910, as did Vassilios Balotis (aged 19, of Constantinople, Turkey).
  • Findmypast also has a Triandafilos Balutis arriving on the Carpathia in New York from Trieste in 1913 (NARA publications M237 and T715), but no original image to check.
  • Findmypast has a “Trentafellos Damianon Balutis” (born 28 Aug 1885, nationality Turkey, son of Theodoola Balutis of Constantinople, medium height, slender build, brown eyes, black hair, living at 342 Broadway NYC) joining the US Army in 1918 in New York.
  • Ancestry lists “Messrs T. Baloutis” (born about 1889) arriving at Fremantle on 08 Feb 1923, but I don’t have a subscription so can’t see the arrival record behind the Ancestry.com paywall.
  • The NAA also has a 1928 record of a Triantafilos Balutis (Nationality: Greek) being nominated by Dimitrios Balutis. This was a Form 40 (“Application forms […] for admission of Relatives or Friends to Australia“), so would imply that Dimitrios Balutis was almost certainly a relative already in Australia. (No original image.)
  • The 1939 Melbourne electoral roll has a Balutis, Treantafillous at 27 Lansdowne st. (waiter): and he was at the same address in 1946. Note that 27 Lansdowne St seems (from various small ads) to have been a house converted to BSRs (bed sitting room).

While it’s possible that these are all the same person, it’s also hard not to notice that one record says he is Turkish and born in 1885, and the other says he is Greek and born in 1889. All the same, the vectors of people’s lives are often complicated, so who can say?

Stelios Balutis…?

As for other Melbourne people with the surname Balutis, we can see a Stelios Balutis in North Melbourne applying for naturalisation in 06 Aug 1954 (his certificate of naturalisation, issued 12 May 1955, is here):

I, STELIOS BALUTIS, of Greek nationality, born at Thraki, resident 31 years in Australia, now residing at 119 Queensberry Street, North Melbourne, intend to APPLY for NATURALISATION under the Nationalisation and Citizenship Act 1948.

There are a number of other Stelios Balutis records:

  • Findmypast has a record of a Stelios Balutis being born in 1890 and died in “Park”, Victoria in 1977 (reg: 17231).
  • The NAA also has Stelios Balutis’s service record (V377969, born 28 Feb 1888 in Sterna, Turkey, enlisted in Caulfield, Victoria, next of kin “BALUKIS IOANNA” [presumably BALUTIS misspelt]).
  • Familysearch’s reference books (which, it has to be said, aren’t normally the most useful part of that site) have “Balutis, Stalios” [sic] living at 119 Queensberry St in the 1959 Commonwealth of Australia electoral roll (though the document itself can’t be seen online).
  • There was also a Stelios Balutis on the S.S. Bretagne, arriving in Sydney in 1962 from Piraeus, with his destination “Grenvell St 26 Hamilton Melb”.
  • findmypast has the will/probate records for “Stelois Balutes” [sic], died 09 Jul 1977, retired, of “Parkville”, Victoria.
  • The Greater Metropolitan Cemeteries Trust lists a “Stelias Balutis” [sic] as having been interred on 13 Jul 1977 in the Chivers Lawn section of Templestowe Cemetery (location: “TE-CH_L*H***52“) in Manningham City, Victoria. (This also appears in findagrave.com)

Again, it’s entirely possible that these are all the same person, but it’s hard not to notice that one was born in Sterna, Turkey (where is that, exactly?) while another has Greek nationality.

Where Next?

Well… I have to say I’m not entirely sure. The logical step would seem to be to get hold of Triantafillos Balutis’s Form 40, and/or Stelios Balutis’ service records, his death notices from 1977 and/or his will/probate records, to try to reconstruct a little more of both men’s immediate family.

But for all the details scattered across all the archives, I’m not yet sure I’ve really got even a basic handle on either of these two yet. For example, I have no idea at all about Dimitrios Balutis, or Ioanna Balutis: so everyone in this family / these families seems to be close to archivally invisible.

At the same time, given (a) that the S.S. Ormonde arrived at Fremantle a few days before proceeding to Sydney, and (b) that I’m not a big fan of coincidences, it does seem overwhelmingly likely to me that Triantafillos Balutis and Stelios Balutis both reached Australia on the same ship.

Note that there was a fireman (i.e. a fire stoker) on merchant ships called Demetrios Balotis (5ft 5in, 160lbs) born around 1911 (nationality: Greek) who appears in US crew lists from 1945-1950, who had been at sea for 14 years by 1945. I don’t believe this was the same Demetrios Balutis who filled in Triantafillos Balutis’s Form 40, but I could easily be wrong-footed there.

I suppose the big question for me is: where are these people all buried? We have a plot for Stelios Balutis, sure, but there are at least three other Balutis family members to account for in or around Melbourne, and there are no other Balutis graves in Templestowe Cemetery. Perhaps some ended up near The Resurrection of Saint Lazarus Greek Orthodox Church? It feels to me as though there is a gap in the records here that findagrave and billiongraves aren’t touching. All suggestions and ideas very welcome!

OK, stripping the Somerton Man’s story back, I’m still minded to believe that the Somerton Man was some kind of crim: and that the most credible piece of external evidence we have as to his identity is that in early 1949 two Melbourne baccarat players recalled he had been a nitkeeper at a Lonsdale Street baccarat school for about ten weeks some four years before (so around the start of 1945).

The next piece of relevant information is that Victoria’s state laws against nitkeeping were very strong: a first offence meant a fine of £20, a second offence a fine of £250, while a third offence meant six months in prison. Because the school principal paid the nitkeeper’s fines, what this meant was that a nitkeeper who had been fined once was effectively unemployable: no betting principal would hire a nitkeeper who had previously been fined, the fine for the second offence was just too high.

Hence the “Previously Fined Nitkeeper” Somerton Man hypothesis is simply that the reason the nitkeeper disappeared after about ten weeks was because he had been fined, and had thus become unemployable as a nitkeeper. So all we would have to do is find Victoria archive records of nitkeepers being fined in, say, 1944-1946, and we would have a reasonable shortlist of people who might – if everything aligned just perfectly – be the Somerton Man.

Victoria Police Gazette

Simple, eh? Well… in principle, yes. But as with just about everything, the Devil sits firmly in the details.

The #1 place we would like to look is the Victoria Police Gazette, where all court activity is helpfully summarized. However, for the specific years we are interested in here (1944-1946), there is only a physical copy that can be accessed at the Victoria State Library (the microform version runs only to 1939).

Moreover, I believe that the Compendium (that indexes this properly) is only available up until 1924, so searching it would be a painstaking process. One that I’d be more than happy to do, mind you, if I didn’t just happen to be on the far side of the planet.

So until someone decides to bite this particular monster-sized bullet, the Victoria Police Gazette avenue seems to be closed to us.

Baccarat in Victoria

As normal, we can look to the indexed wonder that is Trove for assistance in our search: and having already trawled through the Geelong Petty Sessions Register for 1945 (which is another story entirely), the charge we’re most interested in is “acting in conduct of [a] common gaming house”.

Prior to 1944, this charge almost always related to two-up (an Australian form of coin gambling), fan-tan and hazard. But as far as card schools go, the move to make baccarat illegal in Victoria started only in June 1944:

It was announced today that a bill declaring baccarat and certain other games unlawful games would be the first measure introduced when State Parliament reassembled next week. Baccarat and certain other games, said the Chief Secretary (Mr Hyland) had become a public menace and would be prohibited by law. Police reports showed that wagering on these games was stupendous, particularly on baccarat. At present, prosecutions in regard to baccarat could not be obtained as It was necessary to prove that the promoters were receiving a percentage of the wagers and this it was difficult to do.
Under the amended law, baccarat and the other games would be declared unlawful and it would be necessary only for the police to prove that the game was being played for the promoters to be dealt with and the place declared a gaming house.

By July 1944, there was also suggestion that the police were being bribed to take no action against Melbourne’s “palatial baccarat schools“, though of course senior police denied all knowledge (ho ho ho, right):

No complaint implying an accusation of bribery against any member of the gaming branch had come to his knowledge, said the Chief Commissioner of Police (Mr Duncan) today, when asked about the request by the Leader of the Opposition (Mr Cain) in the Legislative Assembly on Tuesday for an inquiry “into allegations that police had been paid large sums not to take action against palatial baccarat schools” in Melbourne. Mr Duncan said he was unaware of any such allegations. Mr Cain also said that advice he had received from an eminent King’s Counsel was that baccarat schools could be closed by the proprietors being charged with keeping a common gaming house. He was assured, Mr Duncan replied. that every possible endeavour had been made, and was still being made, by the gaming branch to detect and prosecute persons who took part in all forms of illicit gambling. In one prosecution recently, a court ruled that the playing of baccarat did not constitute a common gaming house.

The case where this had been tested in court was that of Christos Paizes, of View street, Hawthorn, relating to the card school he had run in Swanston-street in the city. Police had “watched the playing for money of ‘Ricketty Kate’, poker, solo and rummy” back in February 1944, but the case against Paizes had been dismissed. (More here.)

The bill was introduced to the Legislative Assembly on 4th July 1944, with Mr Hyland describing in some detail the opulent and expensive houses where the games of baccarat, dinah-minah and skillball were played. Having said that, there was immediate concern that the new legislation may not have given the police any genuine new powers that they didn’t already have. Even so, the bill passed all stages in the Assembly on 12th July 1944.

The police’s powers were then discussed here, with a very specific discussion of exactly how baccarat and dinah-minah were played in those “sumptuously furnished and luxuriously carpeted throughout” locations in the Gippsland Times of 20 July 1944.

The key article seems to have appeared in The Truth (24th June 1944), because Mr Hyland (and indeed the Crown Solicitor) responded directly to it here, discussing the baccarat schools at 158 Swanston Street (Paizas), and 7-9 Elizabeth Street (Stokes). Unfortunately, I don’t believe that this particular item is yet in Trove. 🙁

Hence: because baccarat schools were legal up to July 1944, the person whom the two baccarat players identified as a nitkeeper could not have been prosecuted (because even though they did have nitkeepers, baccarat schools were still legal). So we can fast forward past the first half of 1944.

Victoria: Baccarat Prosecutions

It immediately became a point of intense public interest as to whether any of the (now illegal) baccarat schools would be closed down.

On 30th July 1944, the police indeed went to premises in Swanston-street, city, and arrested a 26-year-old- Albanian called Fete Murit of Drummond-street, Carlton (plus 23 men and 17 women). They also raided premises in Drummond-street, Carlton, bringing in 14 more men. Murit was subsequently fined £50: somewhat quaintly, the article lists the occupations of the players brought in.

A similar case against Cyril Lloyd of Glenhuntly Road, Caulfield and Henry Clyde Jenkin of Balfour Street, East Brighton of running a baccarat school at the former’s address on 31 July 1944 was dismissed.

14 Sep 1944: one woman was charged with having permitted the premises (in Barkly Street, Elwood) to be used as a common gaming house, plus 13 men and 10 women who were found there. The article also notes that the charges against the 23 people arrested in Drummond-street, Carlton and the 19 found in a house in Munro Avenue, Carnegie were still awaiting hearing. It was believed that police had managed to close down all Melbourne’s big baccarat schools.

15 Sep 1944: Isaac Cooper-Smith, a fruiterer of Drummond-Street, was fined £20 for running a baccarat school at that same address (the raid was on 04 Sep 1944). 22 others were arrested, of which 13 were fined £1, seven £2, one £3, and one £4. However, Cooper-Smith’s conviction was subsequently quashed because he wasn’t actually on the premises when the police arrived.

03 Oct 1944: Stanley Paul Bonser, of Elbeena Grove, Murrumbeena, was fined £30, after a raid on a house in Munro Street, Carnegie on 30 Aug 1944: 17 others were fined £1.

16 Nov 1944: charges against Basil Koutsoukis relating to a baccarat school he was alleged to have been running in Lonsdale Street were dropped.

17 Nov 1944: only two of 19 men caught in a baccarat raid on premises in Park Street, Parkville on 02 Oct 1944 were fined (having admitted to playing baccarat), others saying that they were there “reading the paper”, “came to buy a car and stayed to supper”, or were “just waiting for a friend”.

29 Nov 1944: Mr Hyland said that baccarat schools had moved to private homes. “In the last five weeks a number of private homes had been visited, and 84 persons charged with gaming offences. Of these 75 had been convicted and nine cases held over“.

23 Mar 1945: Frank Gall was charges with permitting a house in Williamstown to be used as a common gaming house on 05 Feb 1945: Raymond A. Barrett and Albert Chandler were charged with aiding and abetting him. In court, all were fined £1, except Stewart Kerison and Joseph Picone who were fined £2 (“because of previous contacts with the police”). This was then appealed and overturned.

09 Apr 1945: three raids, two on Burnley and one Port Melbourne, 29 men held (no women, so probably two-up?).

14 Apr 1945: 48 men were caught in a raid on upstairs rooms in Russell Street, city “in the block next to police headquarters”. 35 men were also caught in another club in Lonsdale Street, “opposite the Old Royal Melbourne Hospital”, not 200 yards away.

22 Jun 1945: Christos Paizes suffered sudden back pains just before coming to court in relation to proceedings against his alleged baccarat school at 158-160 Swanston Street, City, had been instituted on 18 May 1945. Adjourned until 16 July. When this came to court on 19 July 1945, the affidavit submitted that Paizes was running a baccarat club at the old Canton Café in Swanston Street. The persons having control and management (none of whom were known by police to have a lawful occupation) of the club were:

  • Christos Paizes (alias Harry Carillo)
  • William John Elkins
  • Gerald Francis Regan (of High-street, St Kilda)
  • Richard Thomas (alias Abishara)
  • “and a man known as Balutz”

The club was declared to be a common gaming-house as from 01 Aug 1945, even though Christos Paizes (of Mathoura-road, Toorak) denied it.

06 Sep 1946: police claimed the Melbourne baccarat boom was busted:

Not more than half a dozen small baccarat schools were now operating in Melbourne so far as they knew, gaming police said today.
They were commenting on the Sydney report that the New South Wales Police Department was concerned about the growth of large scale baccarat activities in Sydney.
Baccarat flourished in Melbourne until amendment of the law declared It an unlawful game two years ago. That smashed it here as an organised gambling racket. Then the death of Melbourne’s “baccarat baron,” Harry Stokes, brought to an end schools that were still trying to carry on.
Most recent blow at city gambling centres was a Supreme Court declaration at the request of the police which “quarantined” a social club in Swanston Street as a common gaming house. This meant that any persons entering the premises was liable to arrest.
To escape the punitive effect of this order, the owner sold the premises to a buyer approved by the Crown Law authorities.
POLICE FIND OUT
Places where baccarat was played now, the gaming police said today, were private homes and one or two suburban halls, and they were not able to carry on for long undiscovered. Clients were picked up in cars, chiefly at foreign clubs and solo and bridge schools to evade detection, but the police soon found out.
Whenever the playing of baccarat was discovered, the occupier of the premises was arrested for conducting a gaming house, and everyone there was charged with being found in a gaming house.
Constant police action had put an end to baccarat In Melbourne as a reliable business venture.

07 Oct 1946: “twelve fashionably dressed women and 25 men” were brought in by police after a raid on an alleged baccarat school in Lavender Bay. They were playing a game called “chuck-a-chuck”, similar to baccarat but more profitable for the house.

20 Dec 1946: Dennis Greelish of 578 Melbourne Road, Spotswood was fined £10 for what was clearly baccarat, even though the bench accepted it was probably a game “between friends”.

After The Golden Age

I think it is a reasonably safe bet that the period the two baccarat players were referring to was after July 1944 (when the legislation making baccarat illegal was introduced into Victoria), but before September 1946 (when baccarat was clearly at the end of its life there). The Golden Age – of swank socialites playing baccarat in luxuriously carpeted surroundings – had come to an end with the legislation: in July 1944, it was not a question of whether baccarat would fall, it was simply one of when – or rather, how long bribery could keep the baccarat balls hanging impossibly in the air.

Even though gambling at Christos Paizes’ Lonsdale Street baccarat school had attracted intense (and sustained) attention from the police in early 1944, they had been unable to find any way to shut its (still legal) activities down. Moreover, even once the new legislation had been passed, Paizes continued his baccarat activities through the rest of 1944 and into 1945. Finally, his club was closed down in August 1945: the golden age may already have passed, but that (along with the death of Harry Stokes) was the end of the Melbourne baccarat era.

As far as William John Elkins, Richard Thomas (alias Abishara), and the man known as “Balutz” go:

  • William John Elkins had been arrested for running a Melbourne gaming house in January 1938, and attempts to extradite him to Adelaide in August 1941 on a separate charge had failed. But he seems to have still been alive (and living in Wilgah street, East St Kilda) in October 1950.
  • Deeb John Abishara (who was living at 9 Robe street, St Kilda in June 1941, when he applied for naturalization) was also known as Richard Thomas. Dick Thomas was still “one of the biggest baccarat barons in Melbourne” in September 1953 (and, from the article, would seem to have clearly been deeply feared).
  • Might Balutz be the Somerton Man?Of “Balutz”, there is no sign at all.

Balutz the Romanian?

Might Balutz be the Somerton Man? He was certainly closely associated with Christos Paizes’ Lonsdale Street baccarat school (though without being an obvious principal), at almost exactly the right time flagged by the two anonymous baccarat players. He was certainly mysterious enough: anyone searching for his name will find precious little to work with. Even though I could find nothing about him being a fined nitkeeper, I think he was closely associated with the Lonsdale Street baccarat school in the right kind of way.

Balutz is a Romanian surname: trawling through various databases, I can find evidence of Balutz family members emigrating to the US, but can find nothing in Australia or New Zealand. (Nothing in NAA, billiongraves etc.) No Balutz family trees jumped out at me, but perhaps you’ll have more luck.

I previously blogged about the Melbourne baccarat schools that briefly flourished in 1947-1948: there, I mentioned the 1944-1949 photo supplement to the Police Gazette, plus the similar one for 1939-1948 held in North Melbourne. Might there be a picture of Balutz in there?

Or… if he was the Somerton Man, might his surname be in the employee list at Broken Hill? I’ve previously asked the Broken Hill Historical Society to look for Keanes for me, but it would be a surprise if anyone had asked them to search for Balutz. Who knows what they might find?

If anyone can find anything at all about Mr Balutz, please say!

As Derek Abbott liked to point out (particularly when he was trying to raise Somerton Man crowdfunding from Americans), we can easily imagine the Somerton Man having some US connection. This was not just from the distinctly American feather stitching on his coat, but also from his Juicy Fruit chewing gum, probably a habit picked up at a younger age (when he had more teeth to chew with).

So I’ve been playing around behind findmypast.com.au’s database paywall, seeing what’s there. And it was there that I found four American John Joseph Keanes all born in 1898, thanks to their First World War enlistment records.

These four American draftees should be worth a quick look, right?

JJK #1

Serial Number: 2271 / 3171. Address: 221 Vernon, Wakefield. Born: 28th June 1898. Description: Tall, Medium Build, Blue Eyes, Light Hair. Nationality: Irish. Next of kin: Mrs John Keane, Attymon, Galway. Drafted: Melrose City #28, Massachusetts. Occupation: Lead Busman. Employer: Thompson Scarnitt, Nitro, W. Virginia.

JJK #2

Serial Number: 2376 / 1388. Address: 2123 S. Opal, Phila, Phila, PA. Born: 13th September 1898. Description: Short Height, Medium Build, Gray Eyes, Brown Hair. Nationality: US born. Next of kin: Patrick Keane (Father), 2123 S. Opal. Drafted: Philadelphia City No. 51. Occupation: Assistant Blue Printer. Employer: United States Navy Yard, United States Govt.

There’s a John Keane, born 13th September 1898, who died in Pennsylvania in October 1966 (Social Security Number 164-05-1829): so it looks as though #2 may be fully accounted for. 🙂

JJK #3

Serial Number: 3841 / 5260. Address: 556 Paris St, San Francisco, CA. Born: 19th May 1898. Description: Medium Height, Medium Build, Blue Eyes, Auburn Hair. Next of kin: Ellen Keane, 556 Paris, San Francisco, CA. Drafted: San Francisco City No. 3. Occupation: Heater Boy. Employer: Schawbatchee shipyard, South San Francisco, San Mateo.

There’s a 1910 Census entry for 596 Athens Street, with John Keane (Head, born in Ireland), Ellen Keane (wife, born in Ireland), John J. [12] and James Keane [8] (all born in New York), and Katherine [6], Robert M. [4], Evelyn [3], and William Keane [2] (all born in California).

JJK #4

Serial Number: 1503 / 94638. Address: Brentwood, Suffolk, N.Y. Born: 25th Dec 1898. Description: Medium Height, Medium Build, Blue Eyes, Black Hair. Next of kin: Anna Keane (Mother), Galway Ireland. Drafted: Suffolk County No. 2, New York. Occupation: Farmer. Employer: Sisters, St Joseph, Brentwood, Suffolk, N.Y.

Any Matches?

Here’s the tie linked to the Somerton Man, with the name (T? or J?) Keane on it, which (I have to say) doesn’t look like any of the signatures. And we also know that the Somerton Man was tallish (5ft 11in) and with grey eyes. So it looks like we’re out of luck here, sorry.

But the point I’m trying to make (albeit implicitly) here is that this kind of archival search is extremely random and patchy. For these four draftees, we have a date of birth, a physical description, a next of kin, etc, which is really great: but this is the archival exception rather than anything like the rule. In just about every other case, we have only the tiniest of fragments – for example, marriage details are often little more than a pair of names, a place and a date. Unless you already know what you are looking for, you’re going to be struggling from the start: and that has been true of the research so far.

That Dulwich clerk, at last…

Even so, all my fine-tooth trawling through findmypast’s databases did mean that I found the Australian Electoral Rolls 1939, which (mirabile dictu!) lists:

  • 5761 Keane, Clara Maude, 16 Union st, Dulwich, home duties F
  • 5762 Keane, John Joseph, 16 Union st, Dulwich, clerk M

So it would seem that we finally have (probably) a wife for our Dulwich bookmakers’ clerk.

And this Clara Maude Keane in turn led (via the inevitable long string of intermediate dead-ends) to the following Family Notice in the Adelaide Chronicle of 23rd January 1941:

KEANE. —On the 20th of January [1941], John Joseph, dearly beloved husband of Clara Keane, of Gurney road, Dulwich, and loving father of Kevin and Ronald, beloved brother of Rita, Josie, and Kevin. Aged 44 years. Requiescat in pace

And so, I believe, this search ends.

For some time, I have been looking at the Somerton Man case from the point of view of tangible evidence. For a start, the much-repeated belief that he was unidentified simply doesn’t hold true: the suitcase that he (without any real doubt) left at the railway station contained three items with the name “KEANE” on them. And any reconstruction of his life (or indeed death) that starts with some kind of spy thriller-inspired ‘clean-up crew’ sanitising his effects to cover up his real name is just of zero interest to me.

So, whether you happen to like it or not, he has a surname: KEANE.

Us and Them

Of course, the South Australian Police searched high and low (and even interstate) for anybody with that particular surname who had recently gone missing. But no such person ever turned up. Even when Gerry Feltus managed to track down the mysterious nurse (whose phone number had been written on the back of the Rubaiyat connected to the dead man by a slip of paper in his trouser fob pocket), he encountered nothing apart from evasions and stonewalling from her.

Gerry knew he was being shut out of the truth, but didn’t know why. I think it should have been obvious because, as I’ve blogged before, this specific behaviour has a name: omertà, the Mafia / gangster code of silence. The nurse’s husband – Prosper (“George”) Thomson – had been tangled up with some Melbourne gangster second-hand car dealers, the name of one of whom he specifically refused to reveal in his court case against Daphne Page. So any suggestion that the nurse knew nothing of gangsters or the gangland code of silence would be completely untenable, in my opinion.

What I think Gerry perhaps didn’t grasp was the degree of antipathy that Australians felt towards the police (and even the law itself) in the period after the Second World War. In particular, the Price Commission’s arbitrary price-pegging (carried over from the war years) meant that many people’s economic activities were suddenly only viable on the black market. Trove is full of stories of butchers and greengrocers being prosecuted because they charged at the wrong price: this was a sustained failure of the social contract between a government and its people.

Really, the Price Commission made criminals of just about everyone: buying or selling a car almost inevitably became an exercise in white-collar crime. The main beneficiary of all this was organized crime groups, which clawed their way into dockside unions, off-track gambling, baccarat schools, betting on two-up, and dodgy car sales (particularly interstate, and particularly with imported American cars). Even with meat and vegetable sales!

Put all this together, and you see that the post-Second World War years in Australia were a time of Us and Them, with ‘Them’ being the government and the police. The police were really not loved: but neither were the gangsters who enabled and controlled lots of the activity on the other side of the same line. So the widespread dislike of the police was mirrored by a dislike of the gangsters, along with a fear of violent gangland reprisals.

To my eyes, this is the historical context that’s missing from people’s reconstructions of the Somerton Man’s world.

The Sound of Silence

We hear the sound of silence in the Daphne Page court case, and we hear it in Jo Thomson’s long decades of stonewalling: but I think we hear it loudest of all in the sustained lack of response to the Somerton Man. Remember:

  • Nobody saw him.
  • Nobody said a word.
  • No trace was found.

Bless Gerry Feltus’ heart, but he only allowed himself to draw inferences from what people did say: where they remained silent, he was blocked.

For me, though, this sound of silence tells us one thing above all else: that the Somerton Man moved in gangster circles. I have no doubt at all that there were plenty of people in Adelaide and elsewhere who knew exactly who he was, but chose to say nothing. He was, as per my post on this some years ago, not so much the “Unknown Man” as the “Known Man”: despite clearly having a surname, he was an Unnameable Man.

This may not superficially appear like much, but anything that can winnow down the (apparently still rising) mountain of historical chaff to even moderately manageable proportions is a huge step in the right direction.

But how does being sure he was connected to gangsters help us, exactly?

The Baccarat School Nitkeeper

In January 1949, “two prominent Melbourne baccarat players” came forward to say that they thought the man had worked as a nitkeeper in a Lonsdale Street baccarat school “about four years previously” (i.e. ~1945). They thought he had worked there for ten weeks before disappearing, never to be seen again (until his face was in the paper, that is).

Of all the mountains of Somerton Man-related speculation and punditry, this alone stood out for me as something that could be worked with, as a research lead that had some kind of archival promise. And so I have assiduously read hundreds of articles and new reports in Trove, to try to make sense of how this part of the post-war economy worked.

It’s true that a fair few policeman back then took bribes from the gambling bosses to turn a blind eye (this was remarked upon in numerous news stories of the day). But even so, one striking fact is that the laws in Victoria relating to nitkeeping were much harsher than elsewhere in Australia:

  • First offence: £20
  • Second offence: £250
  • Third offence: six months in prison

Because principals paid nitkeepers’ fines, it simply wasn’t in their interest to hire anyone with a prior conviction for nitkeeping, not when the fine for a second conviction leapt up to a staggering £250.

From this, my suspicion is that the man the two baccarat players were talking about had been caught in a raid after working in Melbourne for ten weeks and fined £20. And with a fine under his belt, none of the schools would then re-hire him as a nitkeeper: that would have been the end of the line.

Moreover, Byron Deveson uncovered SAPOL records for a John Joseph Keane (apparently born in 1898) who had been convicted of hindering / nitkeeping in Adelaide, and whom I then pursued through Trove.

If only I could see the Victoria court records for 1944 / 1945…

Victoria Petty Sessions Court

The records for the Victoria Petty Sessions Court are behind a findmypast paywall. So here’s what it threw up for John Keane (some or none of which may be our man John Joseph Keane):

  1. The Geelong ledger is dated 23rd September 1924. “Defendant at Geelong on the 7th September 1924 did behave in an offensive manner in a public place, to wit Eastern Beach”. Pleaded guilty, but case was dismissed.
  2. [John Francis Keane]: “Defendant between 10th and 11th December 1929 at [Geelong?] did break and enter the warehouse of the Geelong [???] Water Company Pty and steal therein 13 cases of Dewars whisky seven cases of Johnny Walker whisky five cases of Gilbeys gin and two cases of Hennesys brandy valued at £190”. Result: “Committed for trial at the first sittings of the Supreme Court to be held in Geelong 1930. Bail allowed accused in the sum of £200/-/-.”
  3. [J Keane] Colac Courts, Victoria. 17th March 1930, Conviction: “Drunk”.
  4. The Geelong ledger is dated 19th March 1940, but the stamp on the page is marked 10th Feb 1940. The Sergeant of Police was Arthur De La Rue. Keane (and indeed 49 others) were accused of: “Defendant at Geelong did commit a breach of Act 3749 Section 148 – Found in common gaming house”. The case was “Dismissed”.
  5. The Geelong ledger is dated 24th November 1944, but the stamp on the page related to Keane’s being found (along with 25 others) in a common gaming house on 25th September 1944, with a summons dated 11th October 1944. The case was adjourned until 8th December 1944. The Senior Constable of Police was Colin Egerton.
  6. On 8th December 1944, Keane returned to Geelong court and admitted that he had been present on that occasion, but pleaded not guilty. There seems to be no records of the court’s response (most of the other defendants on that occasion were represented by a Mr Sullivan, and pled that they had not been present), but the other defendants who also admitted being present while pleading not guilty were discharged with a caution.

So, no definitive results here. Bah!

John Joseph Keane – BDM

Finally: are there any fragments of Birth / Death / Marriages that we might stitch together to eliminate some or all of the possible John Joseph Keanes out there? Here’s what I found:

Findmypast lists:

  • John Joseph Keane born 1898, died 1950 in Shepp (registration 21625).
  • John Joseph Keane marrying Florence Mary Clancy in Victoria in 1930 (registration 6892)
  • John Joseph Keane marrying Alma Maude McKay in Victoria in 1939 (registration 346)

FamilySearch.org lists:

  • John Joseph Keane died 20th January 1941, buried West Terrace Cemetery, Adelaide (billiongraves image). Also with the same headstone: Delia McKague (died 15th January 1939, findmypast says she was born in 1863 and died in Glen Osmond), Kevin Newland Keane (died 29th June 1967, findmypast says KNK was born in 1902, married Alleyne Maud(e) Dinnis (born 1905) 19th December 1927, lived at 6 Smith St Southwark), and Marguerite Ellen Wilson (died 12th April 1984 aged 85 years).
  • John Joseph Keane (retired) died 7th August 1967, in Brunswick, Victoria
  • John Joseph Keane (grocer) died 17th June 1972, in Castlemaine, Victoria

If there’s a way of stitching all, some or even a few of these strands together, I for one certainly can’t see it yet. But perhaps you will?

While (yet again) raking through Trove a while back for anything to do with the missing bookmaker’s clerk (and gambling nitkeeper) John Joseph Kean(e), I found two mentions (here and here) of a May 1948 divorce in a Sydney court between J. J. Kean and V. M. Kean in front of Mr. Justice Clancy in No. 2 Court.

Even though this trail had previously gone cold, I returned to it today to see if I could find anything more about “V. M. Kean”: and this time around, it turned out that the Gods of Trove were a little more on my side.

63 Jetty Road, really?

I first found a November 1945 open letter from “V. M. Keane” published in the Adelaide Advertiser on the 16th, 17th and 19th:

PERSONS who have left goods to be sold on commission make enquiries re same by December 1st, 1945, otherwise the undersigned will not be responsible (Signed) V. M. KEANE. 63 Jetty road. Glenelg

This then led me to find an article in the 30th October 1945 Adelaide News:

At Glenelg yesterday, while Mrs. Veronica Mary Kean was serving in her secondhand shop in Jetty road about 3 p.m., she left two rings on the counter. An hour later they were missing. […] One of them, an eternity ring, was valued at £4 and the other, a gold ring, at £3.

A similar article appeared here in the Adelaide ‘Tiser:

Two rings, together valued at £7, were stolen from the secondhand shop of Mrs Veronica Mary Kean, home duties, of Jetty road, Glenelg, on Monday. PCC Rawson is enquiring.

There’s a reference to “Kean, Veronica Mary” in the 1945 SA Police Gazette (category H: “Stealing In Dwellings etc”), the index to which is visible online.

In 1951, we see a business at the same address: “Miss Muffet 63 JETTY ROAD, GLENELG The Children’s Wear Specialists Large range of Over coats and Frocks in all shades and sizes.”

The shop was already called “Miss Muffet” in January 1946, as per this article:

In aid of the RSL Building fund, a variety show and mannequin parade will be held in the Glenelg Town Hall at 8 p.m on Wednesday February 13. Organiser is Mrs. S. Eitzen and compere Malcolm Ellenby. Mannequins—Mary Rennie (bathing beauty candidate), Zita Minagall, Beth Habib, Patricia Rennie, Mary Abbley, Gipsy Rowe, Lorraine Hart, Barbara Jacob. Cynthia Marshall. Mona Allison Stella Minney and June Lord. Clothes displayed by courtesy of leading Glenelg stores. Bookings at “Miss Muffet,” Jetty road, Glenelg.

Was Veronica Mary Kean also the owner of the Miss Muffet shop? I suspect not, because the letter in the Advertiser seems to imply that she had had the lease of her second hand shop’s premises withdrawn as of 1st December 1945. But a branch of The National Bank of Australasia opened at 63 Jetty Road on 2nd January 1952, giving any Miss Muffet searchers an end date to work with.

Marriage or Death?

So, can we find details of her marriage? The only SA marriage I found for a Veronica Mary Keane was from 1946:

KEANE — SMITH.— The marriage of Veronica Mary, only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A. H. Smith, of St. Peters, to Hillary Ignatius, fifth son of the late Mr. and Mrs. B. J. Keane, of Goodwood, was solemnised at St. Francis Xavier’s Cathedral on July 20, at 6 p.m.

However, NSW’s BDM website found me a 1926 marriage between James J Kean and Veronica M O’Brien in Glebe (refs: 11392/1926 and 11392/1926). Sadly, images for these aren’t available online.

As for her death, the LDS FamilySearch website yields only a death on 20th December 1968 of a widow called “Keena, Veronica Mary” in Warrnambool: but I somewhat doubt that that was her. Similarly, GenealogySA only suggests a Veronica Mary Keane (whose deceased husband was William Joseph Keane) who died in 1971.

What do I think?

OK, I admit I got a little bit excited when I found Veronica Mary Kean(e) running a second hand shop on 63 Jetty Road, Glenelg in 1945. But it does seem as though she was not the same V. M. Kean who divorced J. J. Kean in Sydney in May 1948 – realistically, that was almost certainly James J. Kean and Veronica Mary Kean (nee O’Brien) terminating their 1926 Glebe marriage.

My best guess is therefore that the Veronica Mary Keane of 63 Jetty Road was in fact the Veronica Mary Smith who married Hillary Ignatius Keane on 20th July 1946, and whose engagement was announced in the Adelaide Advertiser on 3rd November 1945:

SMITH—KEANE. —Mr. and Mrs. A. H. Smith, of St. Peters, wish to announce the engagement of their only daughter, Veronica M., to Hillary I. (RAAF. Pacific), fifth son of the late Mr. and Mrs. B. P. Keane, of Goodwood.

Like another Adelaidean with whom Somerton Man researchers are thoroughly familiar, it seems that Veronica Mary was using her married surname after getting engaged but prior to getting married.

So, it would appear to be no more than normal frustrating chance that put Veronica Mary Keane and her 63 Jetty Road second hand shop in the path of my research steamroller. Well worth a look, undoubtedly close, but… no Tamam Shud cigar this time, sorry! 🙁

Anyone in Dublin this week with even a passing interest in Ethel Voynich could surely do no better than drop by Dr Angela Byrne’s talk: Ethel Voynich, Transnational Revolutionary at 5.30pm to 6.30pm on Thursday 10th October 2019, at EPIC (The Irish Emigration Museum), Custom House Quay, D01 T6K4 Dublin 1. And did I mention it’s completely free?

The talk’s synopsis:

Cork-born Ethel Voynich was raised in London, where she became involved in anarchist circles and translated the writings of exiled Ukrainian revolutionary, Stepniak. She travelled around Russia in 1887–9, teaching music and associating with radicals. Her novel, The Gadfly (1897) inspired communists worldwide for decades – but by 1917, she had moved away from radical politics. This talk details her transnational radical networks and asks, what was the extent of her involvement in the Russian revolutionary movement?

Ah, yes: and I can confirm that it’s a pleasure and a delight to finally have some Ethel Voynich-related news that isn’t related to lingerie.