In the beginning was the name and the name was good. It was McFarlane.

William arrived in Australia with his brother Benjamin from Canada. William begat James who begat Ernest who begat Ernest (my dad) who begat me.

On my recent trip to Melbourne I visited my uncle Ron (also begat by Ernest), and aunty Jean begatted on an altogether different line, hopefully.

Ron has done a lot of work on the family heritage, all the way back to Alex and Margaret born in the early 1700s in Scotland. Och, Aye, it’s a broad brecht moonlecht necht tonecht.

And so this trip which was really instigated because Kathy wanted to catch up with lots of old friends became, for me, a catch up with some ghosties from the bygane, including Scottish Highland cattle rustlers – Those cattle ur oors coz th’ damned sassenach stole uir lain. We’ll slit puckle ay their throats in th’ process, an’ theres a lesson thaur, bugger aff ye mongrels an’ gang discowre anither lain tae invade somewhaur withit anyain oan it loch mebbe ‘at stoatin soothern continent everybody is talkin’ abit.

We stood on great great granddad Williams’ plot just 6 feet above his a’bodie in Benalla, and, with gravelly voice filtering through the soil, he regaled us with a harrowing tale of great great grand uncle Ben’s amputation on the wagon trail from Prince Edward  Island, East Canada to San Francisco. Wary of his penchant for embellishment, I checked the records and somewhat confirming this, one notes that upon his death he was indeed in possession of a wooden leg. But maybe he was just a good boy scout. “Be prepared”, his doctrine. I’m whittling mine now.

Great grandad James was taken by a religious fervour during the depression and took off with the family to become a House of David Israelite. One of many cultish new religions that sprang up at the turn of of the century. This lot actively recruited from Melbourne for some reason. No cutting of hair, no sex, no drink, no eating of flesh but healthy vegetarian meals provided daily (perhaps his main motivation). Back across the Pacific to Benton Harbour, Michigan,  to the headquarters of the H of D with the kids in tow. Despite the celibacy rule for devotees the head prophet, charismatic Benjamin “chosen one” Purnell felt it was god’s will that he “bless” the young female initiates with his “sword”. It’s an old story.

Grandad met grandma at the H of D and dissatisfied with the state of affairs, and dissatisfied with their lot, and no doubt just generally dissatisfied, they left the cult and started up McFarlane’s homemade candy store in Southbend, Indianna. They made no money but who cares – by pressing his whiskers to her cheek they did miraculously make my dad and his brother. And lucky Australia welcomed back this particular Mcfarlane line and they strolled off the boat at Port Melbourne and settled in St Kilda.

So two brothers started off a new clan in Victoria. Many of the descendants of the g-g-grand uncle Ben of wooden leg remained in the Benalla and Violet Town area until recently when nobody remains anywhere near where they were born. Some went to Wodonga and strangely, the first thing Kathy and I did after reaching her friend Lizette’s house after the 7 hour drive from Katoomba to Wodonga, was stretch our legs on a walk up the hill near her place – McFarlane’s Hill, so the sign said.

Whereupon, I stood on the mount and looked out over the land, and that was my land.

Some House of David devotees in their baseball uniforms.