The Baby Farmers

by Annie Cossins

  On 4 January 1871, The Sydney Morning Herald reported a long list of 108 men and two women whose estates had been sequestrated (seized by bailiffs or sheriffs) at the end of 1870.56 John Makin of Wollongong, a clerk, was one of them. How John fell into debt is unknown, although it may have been in one of the many gambling saloons that operated at the time. His liabilities were listed as £22 12s 10d with assets of only £2. The cause of his insolvency was the ‘pressure of creditors’, perhaps the type of creditors whom his well-off family refused to pay. It was a small debt compared to that of many others on the list, some of whom owed thousands of pounds to their creditors. One was Henry Parkes, later the Premier of New South Wales, whose merchant business failed at the end of 1870 when he owed the enormous sum of £35,036.57

  John Makin appeared in the Insolvency Court in Sydney on Tuesday 2 November 1870 and surrendered his assets of £2 to Mr Semphill, the official assignee of his debt. A month later he appeared at a meeting of creditors in Wollongong58 where he promised to pay his outstanding debt.

  Less than a year after his appearance in the Insolvency Court, on 27 August 1871, John Makin, aged 26, married Sarah Jane Edwards (née Sutcliffe), aged 25, at 41 Burton Street, Sydney in the Free Church of England. For some reason there was no notice in the Sydney newspapers of their marriage, unlike the marriage of John’s younger brother, Daniel, in 1878 and unlike Sarah’s first marriage, six years earlier.

  Sarah and John met in John’s home town, since their marriage certificate reveals that Sarah’s place of residence was Wollongong at the time.59 John was a commercial clerk whilst Sarah’s occupation was recorded in the elegant handwriting of the day as ‘Lady’, although she was actually a barmaid working in a local hotel, most likely the one owned by John’s father. When Sarah married for the second time, she used her married surname of ‘Edwards’ even though she was described as a ‘spinster’ on the marriage certificate, rather than a widow or divorcee. Perhaps she was a bigamist, something that was relatively common in the 1800s given the frequency of desertion by husbands and the difficulties with obtaining a divorce.

  But both of them had a past. John was still dealing with his debt in 1872 when he applied for a certificate from the Insolvency Court on 23 June to show that his debt had been paid.60 This was just in time, since there were ballooning expenses about to arrive in the newly created Makin family.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The deadly secret in Sarah Makin’s body

  2 August 1872–8 November 1888

  Almost a year after John and Sarah married, their first child, William Sutcliffe Makin, was born on 2 August 1872 in Wollongong. At the time of William’s baptism, John was a publican1 which suggests he was working in the family hotel business.

  Two years later, on 27 August 1874—the Makins’ third wedding anniversary—Blanche Ellen Gertrude Makin was born at Phoenix Wharf, Shelley Street, Sydney, where John was working as a wharfinger.2 Sarah must have become pregnant soon after the birth of Blanche because less than nine months later she gave birth, prematurely, to a second daughter, Florence Eileen Elise Makin on 16 April 1875 in Sydney. She now had three children under the age of three years.

  Seven more children arrived over the next 16 years. Clarence Ethel May Makin, known as Clarice, was born on 26 February 1878 at the Clarence River, New South Wales, and baptised in Wollongong. Sometime in 1879 or 1880, Percy Frederick Makin was born although his birth was not registered. Two years later, Daisy Makin was born on 23 October 1881 at 190 Goulburn Street, Sydney. By the end of 1881, Sarah had six children, all of whom survived into adulthood.

  But 1881 was not a good year for the Makins since the newspapers reported that John Makin and Thomas Strange were charged with stealing a lamb from one John Brierly on 11 October. John confessed to taking the lamb when picked up by the police but said ‘he did not think that Brierly would say anything about it’.3 At the time, John was employed as a livestock delivery man by Thomas Ellis, a livestock auctioneer in George Street South, close to where the Makins were living in Goulburn Street.

  On 6 October, John Brierly had purchased twelve lambs from Mr Ellis which were held in two pens at the saleyards. Another employee of Ellis’, James Rochford, testified that he saw Makin ‘throw a lamb over the fence at a time when Strange was in a cart close by’ although he could not swear it was one of Brierly’s lambs. He thought nothing of it until he later noticed one of the lambs from Brierly’s pens was missing.

  Robert O’Halloran testified that ‘he conveyed a lamb in his cart from Ellis’s yard to Hay-street [at Makin’s request], where Strange, who was with Makin in the yard, took charge of and carried it away’. The lamb was then killed by Makin.

  Makin’s lawyer told the court there was no evidence the lamb was owned by Brierly and that Makin had made no attempt at concealment, arguing ‘there had been no felonious taking’. Nonetheless, both Makin and Strange were committed to stand trial in the Court of Quarter Sessions. Although both were given bail, the charge of stealing probably meant that John was now unemployed.

  While the Makin family had had a hearty meal of lamb chops, Sarah must have worried about the outcome of the trial since she was due to give birth to her sixth child. On 31 October 1881, both John and his companion in crime pleaded not guilty before Judge Dowling in a Darlinghurst courtroom. Their lawyer, Mr Roberts, mounted a novel defence by arguing ‘it was customary for a sheep, or a pig to be taken, in the way Makin had taken the lamb’, the custom apparently allowing payment to be made afterwards. Although Roberts urged the jurymen to accept there was no felonious intent, they appear not to have heard of this sheep-borrowing custom, finding John Makin guilty and Mr Strange not guilty. For this petty theft, John received three months’ gaol with hard labour. The prison record for John Makin confirms that the sheep-stealing and the baby-farming John Makin were one and the same, stating that he received three months for stealing on 1 November 1881.

  The sentence would have been a terrible blow to a family with six young children, the youngest just eight days old. How Sarah survived without John’s income is unknown but his incarceration may have prompted her to begin baby farming or another well-known profession that was conducted on the docks. If she had already learnt the art of baby farming from her mother, Ellen Sutcliffe, it was a short step from starvation to the purchase of the next edition of the newspaper where unnamed mothers advertised for ‘kind ladies’ to adopt their unwanted babies.

  It seems John’s work insecurity continued to be an issue even after his release from gaol. Just before Christmas 1882, John was working for Mr Frederick Stuart, who had improperly used the water bottles of a company called Summons and Co. which was in the business of selling tonic and soda water to hotels and shops.4 These bottles were the property of the company and bore their registered trademark, ‘The Crystal Fountain Company’. Summons and Co. sued Stuart for breach of trademark since he appears to have been in the crafty business of refilling their empty bottles with ‘lemonade and other liquors’, aided by one John Makin.

  Makin testified in the proceedings that he had ‘delivered the bottles when filled to different publicans’, collecting the empty bottles at the same time. To the frustration of Summons and Co., there was insufficient evidence to prove the trademark breach and the case was dismissed. Nonetheless, the case may have heralded the end of another career path for John Makin, who had given evidence against his employer.

  There are two more references to Mr Makin in the newspapers in the late 1880s before his name became synonymous with baby farming after his arrest in 1892. In 1889, a man named Makin hijacked a horse at the Liverpool races and would only return it to the owner for a cheque for £20.5 There is no way of knowing whether or not this story involved our John Makin, although the subsequent presentation to another person of the cheque, which Makin knew had been dishonoured by the horse owner,6 sounds very much like the underhand dealings of John Makin, baby farmer.

  In November 1889, a John Makin was also charge
d with fraudulently converting a sewing-machine he had borrowed from Thomas Feather.7 The newspaper report states that John Makin was 36 years old at the time, which does not match the age of John Makin, baby farmer, who was 44 in 1889. Nevertheless, law reporters did not always report the correct facts. If these two incidents involved the baby-farming John Makin, it suggests the Makin family was supplementing its income through petty crime with too many hungry mouths to feed. Unexpectedly, extra costs arrived that many families had to bear because of high infant mortality rates.

  Sarah’s seventh child, Leslie Roland Joseph Makin, was born on 2 November 1883 off Bourke Street in Redfern. He died just after his first birthday on 13 November 1884 at 47 Oxford Street, Darlinghurst from convulsions caused by syphilis. Today this disease is known as congenital syphilis. According to the doctor who last saw him, Leslie had been suffering convulsions for five weeks. He was buried in Rookwood Cemetery with John and a friend as witnesses, Sarah apparently not in attendance. At this time, John was working as a clerk.

  One year after Leslie’s death, a girl, Linda, was born on 20 November 1885 at 26 George Street, Redfern. Eight months later, on 27 July 1886, she also died from convulsions from which she had apparently suffered for two weeks according to Dr Markby, who saw the baby the day before she died. At this time, John was working as a delivery man while the family was living at 207 Wells Street, Redfern, the suburb which would become their favourite haunt.8

  Linda was buried at Rookwood Cemetery with John and Minnie Helbi, Sarah’s married daughter, as witnesses. Again it appears Sarah did not attend the funeral. Given Linda’s young age, her cause of death and that of her brother two years earlier, it is almost certain that Eveline Linda Makin (the name on her death certificate) also died of congenital syphilis. Another boy, Harold Campbell Makin, was born on 5 August 1888 at Bullanaming Street, Redfern. At the age of three months, he died on 8 November from infantile atrophy. The doctor who signed the death certificate said the baby had been suffering from infantile atrophy for two months, a clear sign Harold had failed to thrive, another symptom of congenital syphilis. With John still working as a delivery man, the Makins were living at 26 Dale Street, Chippendale when the baby died.9

  The tenth and last known child of the Makins, Cecil Montague Makin was born in 1890. His birth was not registered, perhaps because Sarah and John expected that he too would die. Against the odds, he survived into adulthood. It was rumoured that Sarah had another six children10 although there is no evidence of their births or their deaths. But dead babies were to become a speciality of the Makins, with surreptitious burials late at night and thoughts of registration the furthest thing from their minds.

  Sarah and syphilis

  Because one of Sarah’s newborn babies died of syphilitic convulsions, Sarah herself was infected with syphilis, since the only way a baby can contract congenital syphilis is from its mother in the womb. How and when Sarah Makin contracted the disease is a mystery, but it is an event that affected her mental and physical health in the baby-farming years to come.

  Sarah may have contracted syphilis from her first husband, who was a mariner, given the well-known affiliation between seamen and women of ‘accomodating [sic] morals’ whilst in port after long voyages at sea. Syphilis had formed deep roots in Australia with the disease being traceable to the country’s convict origins and the ‘basic nexus between poverty, prostitution and venereal disease’. Even before the First Fleet set sail, Governor Arthur Phillip was aware that many of the female convicts on board suffered from ‘venereal complaints’.11

  Sexual liaisons on the First Fleet between female convicts and seamen were common, although ships’ officers and surgeons did not necessarily condone the behaviour of the ‘depraved’ women whose lust seemed to be uncontrollable and who bore the brunt of the moral censure. Upon arrival, the colony’s first orgy apparently took place12 and the promiscuous relations between convict men and women of the colony continued, much to the disgust of Governor Phillip, who tried to encourage convict men and women to marry. Yet there was very little privacy in a tent city. The challenges of camping in a strange land with strict food rationing meant that sex and drinking ‘were among the few pleasures available’. In fact, ‘[t]he imbalance of the sexes produced by the convict transportation system encouraged promiscuity and in turn a marked incidence of venereal disease’. This means that sexually transmitted diseases were as much a part of the colony’s early history as were settlement, exploration and rebellion. As early as 1789, Governor Phillip had formed the view that ‘venereal disease “has gained such a footing in this settlement that I doubt if it will ever be done away”’.13

  By 1808, one-quarter of the deaths of soldiers was due to syphilis and gonorrhoea and by 1819 venereal disease was the third most common illness treated at the Sydney Hospital. By 1834, it was reported that syphilis had spread ‘over the whole of the Australian continent’, including the Aboriginal population.14

  If Sarah Makin had been infected by her first husband, it meant she contracted syphilis when she was about nineteen. If so, she would have had the disease for about six years by the time she married John Makin, making it highly likely that some of her first six children would have been affected by congenital syphilis. Since this did not occur, and for medical reasons discussed later, it is more likely she contracted syphilis sometime after the birth of her sixth child, Daisy, who grew into adulthood and as far as we know was not affected by the disease. Because Sarah’s seventh child, Leslie, was her first to die from the disease, Sarah probably contracted syphilis between 23 October 1881 (Daisy’s date of birth) and February 1883—nine months before the birth of Leslie.

  When John Makin was sentenced to gaol for sheep-stealing on 31 October 1881, Sarah only had two options for paying the rent and filling the bellies of her six children: prostitution or baby farming. The remarkable coincidence of John’s imprisonment in November 1881, the loss of his wages and the date of birth of her first baby with congenital syphilis sixteen months later suggests that Sarah became a ‘lady of the night’.

  Prostitution was common among working-class women in the 1800s in both Britain and Australia as a part-time way to boost inadequate wages or during periods of unemployment. Married women also supplemented family incomes with part-time prostitution, sometimes with the assistance of their husbands. It was usually ‘a temporary phase’ in a woman’s life rather than a career. In the 1880s, the services of prostitutes were in high demand in New South Wales, since less than 50 per cent of men aged 20 to 30 years were married and ‘significant proportions’ of older men were bachelors, although married men were one of the largest groups of clients.15

  With John Makin in prison and her eldest child, William, placed in charge of his younger sisters and brother, Sarah may have begun her lonely trade working the streets close to Darling Harbour where the family was living at the time, with plenty of randy sailors looking for ‘horizontal refreshments’ and leaving a tip in the form of syphilis. It is also possible that John Makin infected Sarah after he contracted syphilis in Darlinghurst Gaol.

  Since the discovery of penicillin, most people have very little knowledge or experience of syphilis. Today its prevalence is highest in developing countries, although outbreaks of syphilis occur in developed countries with high immigrant populations and high rates of HIV infection.16

  It is possible to get a sense of how common congenital syphilis was in the 1880s when Sarah lost her three babies by looking at the data from countries where sexually transmitted diseases are harder to control. In sub-Saharan Africa, the extent of syphilis in the population is similar to its prevalence in the USA in the early 1900s, with conservative estimates ranging from 3–18 per cent of the population. In some African countries, 24 per cent of all stillbirths and 30 per cent of infant deaths soon after birth are caused by congenital syphilis.17

  Like the situation today, women who contracted syphilis in the nineteenth century were more likely to be young, unmarried, poor,
or engaged in prostitution.18 Once Sarah was infected by the worm-like, spiral-shaped organism (Treponema pallidum) that causes syphilis, she would have developed a chancre from 3–90 days later.19 This is an unsightly but small ulceration or sore (sometimes multiple sores) which develops on a person’s genitals and represents the primary stage of the disease. Because it is painless, Sarah Makin may not have known she was infected, especially if the chancre was located inside her vagina or cervix. In any case, it would have lasted about four to six weeks then disappeared without treatment.

  In the secondary stage of the disease, Sarah would have experienced some or all of the symptoms that mark this stage—headaches, low grade fever, muscle aches, tiredness and loss of weight, a rough, lumpy, reddish-brown rash on the soles of her feet and palms, swollen lymph glands, sore throat, patchy baldness on her scalp, mild hepatitis and a kidney disorder which may have caused swelling around her eyes, feet and ankles. Because some of these symptoms are associated with other illnesses, like the flu, Sarah may not have known that her symptoms were connected with her genital sore.

  In the late 1800s, the treatment for syphilis included mercury with salt or hydrochloric acid, a poisonous potion that was often ineffective.20 People also sought remedies from herbalists, quacks or chemists who advertised their ‘cures’ in daily newspapers, guaranteeing relief from syphilitic disorders. Even without treatment, Sarah’s symptoms would have disappeared, marking the latent stage of syphilis during which the infection remains without a person experiencing any symptoms, sometimes for decades.

  Only about one-third of those infected will develop tertiary syphilis, which involves damage to the heart, blood vessels, brain, eyes and the nervous system, resulting in blindness, shooting pains, emaciation, loss of muscular coordination, incomplete paralysis, chronic dementia and, ultimately, death. A most unpleasant way to die, Elisabeth Kehoe describes how Lord Randolph Churchill, the father of Sir Winston Churchill, ‘lay dying in the final stages of syphilis, his mind slowly yet inexorably slipping into madness’ and how he ‘groaned and screamed with pain’ which was only relieved by strong doses of morphia.21