They were absentee landowners, colonial gentry, fraternising with their peers, making deals, raising capital and writing letters to public officials and newspapers. They paid an overseer to manage their holding.
I ask myself: why did my Aunt Meg, an openhearted, gregarious woman, who set me on the path of family history, and recorded so much of it, not tell me about my Aboriginal connections?
Overwhelmingly I felt a sense of sadness for a once-thriving village.
The "Wishing Well" piques childhood enchantment but perhaps I was always too focused on the present or future to stroll down a leaf-littered path into the past.
What could be more mood-altering than a dance hall that suggested a glittering French palace.