Samuel James Johns

Samuel James Johns was the third son of Ezekiel Johns. 

On April 12^th, 1900, Alice Jane Tilley married Samuel James Johns in the Golden Grove Presbyterian Church.  The bride’s mother did not attend the church for her daughter’s wedding ceremony, but stayed at home attending to final details of the wedding breakfast which was held in the home to which the whole neighbourhood was invited.

Mother Tilley was of German decent.  She was an excellent cook – a good house keeper, fond of offering hospitality and a friend to all in need on the district.

After the knife and fork reception of poultry, meats of every description and plum puddings, the bride and groom left for their home at Gawler River, riding in an open buggy with seats back to back, and a horse named Toby between the shafts – the self same vehicle that brought the bridegroom and his best man to Golden Grove earlier in the day.

Father Ezekiel Johns and wife Lizzie had vacated “Woodvale”, a month previously for a house in Hughes street, Mile End, taking with them very little of the contents of the house.  Evidently new furnishings and furniture were more in keeping with their town house.  Thus the young bride on her wedding night stepped in a house almost complete with furniture, curtains, crockery and ornaments, and hosts of other things no one else wanted.  Her only piece of new furniture was a small rosewood chest of drawers, a gift from her Father.

The autumn rains came early that year, and seeding was in full swing, so there was no time for a honeymoon.  Next day it was everyone to work.  George Hall was employed as a workman, and he remained with the family for many years.  Sam had the farm, some necessary implements and a few head of stick, and a team of horses, but no ready money.  Regular wages were never paid to the boys – just a handout when they needed to buy something, and even then it took courage to approach father for money.

The sons paid rental to their father consequently only sufficient funds remained for necessities.  However, after the first harvest, a sewing machine was purchased.

On January 28^th, 1901, their first child was born and thereafter the family increased with almost monotonous regularity, until there were 11 children, 5 girls and 6 boys.  With the exception of the first child, who was born in the grandparent’s home, all the babies saw the light of day in the same room at “Woodvale”, with a local midwife in attendance, and a doctor from Gawler or Salisbury if the roads were passable.

The Highways were covered with stone which had been cracked by hand into small pieces and pushed into the surface by a heavy roller passing over it many times.  Other toads were left in their natural condition, except for a short trip of metal or a chain or two of forming in the low lying parts.  The travelling public drove upon which ever part was easiest for the horses – and often there was a choice of two or three tracks.

The stone for road making was brought from the quarries by horse-drawn wagon, and emptied at appointed places beside the road.  Men with special hammers would crack the stone into the required size and pile it in to neat rectangular heaps.  Payment was made by the yard and the work was hard.

Before the sons were old enough to help with farm work, a permanent man was employed who lived on the premises.  Fred Steer who came to is from the Labour Bureau, aged 19 years, and with no farm experience stayed for a number of years and returned to work on several occasions.  He became almost one of the family.  For extra help at harvest time, if locals were unavailable, Dad would be off to the Labour Bureau in Adelaide, select his requirements, and come home with strange people sitting beside him in the dray.  Some of these men were off types and worked only until they earned a few pounds, then they asked for their pay and departed.  Men carrying their swats would come to the house enquiring for the boss and seeking work.

If it was a busy time on the farm, they would be given employment, by them too, only stayed until there was a little money to their credit and then they were ready to be on the track again.

With all the peculiar characters employed, no one ever gave serious trouble and Dad delighted in talking with tem, and learning something of their background.

For maintenance jobs around the place, a local chap, Jim Barker, by name, would be called in.  He was most efficient at any repair work and had a high regard for honesty.

He was Dad’s age and as a young man had worked for Grandfather Johns. He possessed a wonderful imagination which took flights into the past and he told tales of the happenings on the farm when he worked for “Old Mr. Ezekiel”.

The same stories were told over and over again, but they were recognizable only by the beginning, and Sam was always the bad boy.  Dad never interrupted the recital – e would smile and shake his head.

These were the days of long hours on the farms, particularly during the seeding and harvest time.  The men would rise at 5am, groom and feed the horses, then to the house for a 6am or 6:30am breakfast.  Back to the stables to harness the team and prepare for the day’s work, often staying in the paddock until sunset.

A fresh team of horses would be brought o the paddock at mid day, then home and unharnessing and feeding again.  After the evening meal, another visit to the stables to see that all was well and bed the animals down for the night.

The pickling of grain was another necessary job associated with seeding.  Blue stone was used – first it was crushed finely, then hot water poured over to melt it and hen stirred.  To this mixture was added cold water and then poured over the heap of grain while two people shoveled and mixed.  This ritual was performed on the asphalt at the rear of the house after tea.

The grain was replaced in the bags ready for the paddock the next day.

Tall where crops were grown for sheaved hay and S.J Johns was known throughout the district for fine paddocks of Hugenot wheat standing higher than the fence.

The family was steadily increasing in numbers so the need for a larger conveyance became apparent.  A wagonette built with a turntable that did not lock was purchased.  The front seats were on a higher level than the two rear seats and entrance to the back was through a small door.  A few years later a hood was added for extra comfort on both hot and cold days.  Dad and the boys rode in the front seat while Mother, the girls and the very young children were in the back.  A pair of bay ponies, young and flighty were bought to draw the big buggy.  They were called Simon and Peter.  For some reason the family disliked the name of Peter, so he became known as Nipper.  Now Nipper developed into a trotter of some standing (so Dad thought), and he won trotting events at the Salisbury Catholic Picnic and at the Gawler Trotting Club Races with Dad in the saddle. However when he competed in country shows he was no match for the well trained trotters driven in their gigs, so Nipper went back to helping Simon pull the family buggy.

Grandfather Johns passed away on January 17^th, 1908 aged 72 years.  He never fully recovered from a stroke two years previously.  He is buried at Carclew when South Australia was in the grip of a heat wave that lasted three weeks with temperatures over the century on thirteen days.  At the gravesite, the officiating minister requested all med including the pall bearers to replace their hats.

The recording on this day was 110.9 degrees.  (A record of the 1908 temperatures was published in the Advertiser, February 1971).

Mother was never happy with the name of the property.  She considered “Woodvale” a misnomer.  She was from the hills and loved hilly country and nowhere on the farm could she see anything resembling a vale.  After grandfather’s death and the place became her own, the name changed to “Woodbine”.

The chaff cutter was driven by horse works.  This contraption was placed near the chaff shed and turned as two horses each attached to a pole walked around in a circle.  There was a platform in the centre upon which someone (usually one of the children) stood with a long handled whip or stick to keep the horses at a brisk walk.  An occasional stone or clod of dirt would come through the door directed at one of the horses as a reminder to hurry along.  Later a Hornsby Engine was installed to drive the chaff cutter, corn cruncher and circular saw for woodcutting.  The time spent starting the engine was often vexing – but once coaxed to work it did a good job.

As money permitted bigger and better implements came to the farm.  More ground was covered each day, and the need to follow the team on four was not always necessary as a sear or platform was provided.  Dad was the proud possessor of a harvester for taking off the grain while some of his counterparts were still using the stripper and hand winnower.  He had a big lifter operated by a horse moving a few paces forward.  This was a great boon when loading bags of grain.

In 1909, sixty acres were added and the property now stood at 640 acres.  The homestead stands today much as it was over 90 years ago when first occupied.  About 20 years after being built the walls showed signs of cracks, and steel rods were put through.  Not until 1907 or 1908 was any further improvements made.  It was then that the verandah was extended to include both sides of the house and the back entrance was enclosed with wire screen and a door.  In 1913 the room used as a dairy was divided and one portion was used as a bathroom complete with bath tub, heater and water laid on.

Some 20 years later the brick oven was removed and this made way for a dairy, laundry and toilet.

The first water for stock and Lucerne growing was pumped from the river.  In 1911 a bore was put down near the front of the house and water of good quality was obtained.

The pine log and straw sheds were demolished when Jerry Ryan and son, Maurice built a big iron shed used as shearing and trolley shed with cow bails attached to one end.

They began work on the building on Ash Wednesday 1916 and Mother was hard put to find something for their dinner and two lunches.  The Ryan’s being devout Roman Catholics.

Dad’s church activities centered around Carclew where he had been brought up and attended Sunday school.  He was church steward and faithfully did the job of passing around the collection plate.  Carclew services were a family affair, consisting of Roberts, Rowland, and John’s families, and occasionally Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Jones.  When the minister had departed after the service the menfolk would settle down for a good talk which lasted an hour or two.

One Sunday when the family stayed longer than usual at the church, they came home to find their Sunday tea had been stolen.  A freshly cooked leg of mutton, 2 large cakes, about a dozen meat pastries and Mothers best butchers knife was never seen again.  The John’s youngsters did not go hungry, because the excitement gave them food for thought for many days.

With the idea of strengthening other Churches in the circuit and making one less preaching place for the minister, Carclew closed for services in 1919 and the S.J Johns family transferred to Virginia.

Foxes became numerous in the neighbourhood, and farmers resorted to laying poisoned bait, and in 1911, 24 foxes died from poisoning at Woodbine (also a good dog or two).

The following is from a newspaper cutting in Auntie Mabel John’s scrapbook – probably about July 1905.

“On Friday last an exciting chase took place on Mr. T John’s farm.  Mr. John’s while inspecting hew ewes spied a fox. He and his brothers with their two men surrounded the spot, and the fox got away, but as the men were on horses they rode after the animal and captured him after a chase of about 4 miles.  It was a strong male fox and measured 3 feet, 7 inches from nose to tail”.

The first motor car was purchased in 1912 for £554.0.0.  The make was a Humber, and the registration number was 2467, and it arrived on the farm complete with driver mechanic to stay for a week to teach Dad to drive and learn the mechanism of the new car.  The horses were panic stricken.

Weather protection on the car was provided by a folding hood – when raised it projected well forward of the windscreen in order to keep rain spots off it.  The hood was supplemented by button on canvas side screens.  Those for the front were fitted with small celluloid windows but the back had no opening. The running board carried the spare wheel and room for luggage or a tin of petrol.  One large acetylene lamp on the front of the bonnet and two oil lamps on the sides.  There were four forward gears, reverse and a hand break on the driver’s right hand.  The starting handle was used to start the engine.  Petrol was brought by the case – each case contained two, four gallon tins.

Roads were almost impassable during wet weather and the car became bogged many times, but one of the quiet draught horses always managed to pull the car out of the mud.

A Chevrolet tourer replaced the Humber in 1923 and later a Buick Sedan was acquired.

Dad, wishing to improve the quality and quantity of the piggery drove to Roseworthy College in the new Humber, accompanied by Mother and seven children. There he purchased a young Berkshire sow and according to her pedigree (supplied), her name was Poppy.  On the homeward journey, Dad decided to take a short cut through the sand hills between Kangaroo Flat and Lewiston.  It was soon apparent the sand would be too much for the car, and Dad shouted “Jump out, and give a push”.  No member of the family dared to dally when their father spoke in that tone of voice, so the four eldest did as he ordered, but forgot to shut the back door where Poppy was resisting on the floor in a bag.

With the extra help the car began to move, and as it gathered speed the door swung open and out came Poppy.  She was picked up, and seemed quite sound and lived to spend many years at “Woodbine: helping to increase the pig population.  However when she no longer fulfilled her role as pig mother, she was loaded on to the spring dray, a net placer over her, and with Dad up in front set out for the marker, but within a mile of the abattoirs, Poppy made her last bid for freedoms, and jumped from the dray hitting the metalled road, never to rise again.

Before the Abattoirs at Gepps Cross were opened in 1913, the sheep, pig, calf and poultry market was situated on 4 acres of land at the corner of North and West Terraces, and now parklands.  The market operated on Wednesdays.  The cattle sale yards were in the west parklands just beyond the Adelaide Goal and market was held on a Monday.

The year 1914 was a drought and many crops failed through lack of rain.  The Johns property stood up well to the strain and there was hay for stock feed and some to sell, also plenty of grain for the next season’s sowing, and a few bushels for sale.

Hay was selling at £4.0.0 per ton and it was inevitable the shortage would force the price higher.  Dad and Dick Smith were discussing the situation.  Dad thought the price would rise to £9.0.0 per ton in April.  Dick Smith disagreed.  Consequently a bet of a new hat was undertaken.  Hay was selling at £9.0.0 in March and went higher, so Dad got a good quality felt hat which he wore with pride, but lost it in the river while urging horses over the rising water.

A footbridge over the river was washed away in the 1913 flood, and the replacement was built near the crossing.  When the river came down a banker, Dad with one of the family would stand on the bridge with a stout pole, and pouch logs and debris beneath it to prevent a buildup of rubbish.

He was a lover of birds and studied their habits, firmly believing they were the farmer’s friends, and did their best to protect them from shooters. Both along the river and in the belt of trees.  The curlews at nesting time were an interest and delight to him.

Dad possessed one watch and that was worn with his best suit.  Working in the paddock he gauged the time of day by the sun and was never more than ten minutes out.

The household clocks were regulated by the rising of the sun.  The times was checked from the newspaper and 4 minutes was allowed for the sun to appear over the hills.

Dad loved attending clearing sales, and besides meeting his farmer friends he was a buyer of “heaps and sundries” having in mind there may be something useful to him.  Consequently the yard and sheds were never exactly tipsy places, but the children reveled in the usual things that Dad brought home from a sale.

To his family he was a father and head of the house, and had no doubts about his role as parent and his place in the family, and saw to it that the children knew there’s.  He guarded his finances closely but not to the point of meanness.  Of luxuries he did not approve, and sometimes wearing apparel came into this category.

Dad was constant in application to his work on the farm and the children were expected to do likewise, but realizing that recreation was necessary, he encouraged participation in sport – this was something he missed in his youth.  He supported local sporting clubs, and was a keen spectator at tennis and football matches.  He was an active member of most local community concerns. And at varying times filled an office with the Virginia School Committee, L.C.L, Methodist church, Institute and Recreation trust grounds.

His bright, yet firm manner made him a desirable chairman for public meetings and concerts.  He was a stickler for law and order, but handles a meeting with tolerance and tact, and considered every item at a concert, irrespective of platform standard should receive a good hearing from the audience.

When the Dawe Bros (Lewis and Rex “Whacka”) came as young men to Virginia to give items at a concert, they tried the worthy chairman out.  As Lewis began to sing his second number, a voice from the rear of the hall interjected. The chairman cast uneasy glances over the audience in the direction of the voice – Lewis stopped singing – Chairman held his hand up for silence – Lewis resumed – more interjections – Chairman arose – Lewis glancing anxiously towards the chairman said “Would you put him out please?’ Chairman left the platform where he had been sitting at a small table and strode briskly down the aisle.

When nearing the back, he noticed a 16 year old “Whacka” Dawe’s bulky frame in the doorway.  The Chairman joined the audience in hearty laughter and returned to his seat on the platform showing no trace of annoyance.

The family were growing up, the older members were now adults, they were marrying and going their different ways while the younger children were still driving to Virginia to attend Primary school.  For 26 years continuously children from the Johns home travelled the self same road to school.

More land had been acquired – first the adjoining farm and alter a property on York Peninsula, and Dad was now ready to hand over to his sons the responsibility of running the farms, and he was looking forward to more leisure to enable him to enjoy things he had missed in earlier days.

He was fond of books and had given some thought to the reading he intended to do, also he had holiday trips in mind for Mother and himself.

During a severe thunder storm on October 11, 1932, while returning from Port Adelaide where they delivered a load of wool, Dad and Wilbur met with an accident about half a mile south of Virginia on the Port Wakefield Road.  They were driving a four horse trolley when an approaching fruiters’ van (motor) collided with them, killing one of the horses.

Dad received lacerations to his leg.  He was taken to Adelaide hospital where he died on October 13 from shock and loss of blood.

At the Coroner’s inquest it was confirmed the trolley was on the proper side of the road and had adequate lighting.  The verdict of the motor van was – driving in a culpably negligent manner, or recklessly at a dangerous speed to the public.

The funeral service was conducted in the dining room at “Woodbine”, and Samuel James Johns was laid to rest in the Carclew cemetery.

The large gathering of friends and relatives testified to his popularity.  Speaking at a Memorial service held in the Virginia institute, a former circuit Methodist Minister said “Mr. S.J Johns always had something good to say had he said it well.  He was broadminded and sympathetic, but always stood for four square principles”.

At 61 years of age,, and while still enjoying good health, young at heart with a crop of dark hair scarcely showing any sign of grayness – his life abruptly ended.

We know not what the future hath

Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death

His mercy underlies.

Children of Samuel and Alice Johns

1. Reta Evangeline
2. Alice Loveday
3. Stanley Thomas
4. Allan James
5. Austen Tilley
6. Mary Sylvia
7. Edna Anna
8. Cedric Wilbur
9. Ian Samuel
10. Leila Grace
11. Robert Grove