Sunday Times (Perth, WA : 1902 - 1954), Sunday 24 November 1929, page 10


The Origin of Toodyay

A Good Looking Woman - As

Usual

By VICTOR G. C. RISELEY.

As one who was privileged to spend most of his boyhood days in Tood-yay, and who has never since failed to regard that rich Avon Valley spot with pride, I have often wondered from what circumstances It derived

Its name. No published volume that I have come across has given the mat-

ter any regard, and although many

attempts have been made through the Press to satisfy curiosity on the point none of these ever seemed to me to be adequate.

The most recent reference to the matter of Toodyay’s nomenclature ap-peared in the dally Press a few Weeks ago, conveying the idea that “Toodyay" which is, of course, an aboriginal word, meant "beauty." Well, that sounded pretty near the mark, because if the aboriginal had any sense of the "beau-tiful he could not have used a better

word to describe Toodyay. But the aboriginal of Australia had little use for these aspects and was not given to linguistic rhapsodies. His language was a utilitarian language and his

place names were almost always as-sociated with his "daily bread" and his water. Wherever there was a river or a creek he called It "Gabby" or "Beela," and so throughout the State we find "Gabbydines," "Oolan-gabbas," and so on. The spots where game was plentiful were known in the equivalent of the aboriginal words for ‘possum, kangaroo and emu. Beauty —as a secondary consideration to these huntsmen of toe plains and hills of Western Australia. If there was any-thing beautiful, it was a beautiful emu or a beautiful snake or a mag-nificent turtle, and so the adjective was lost in the enjoyment of the feast.

There were some exceptional lin-guists among the white men whose lives were lived In close association with the niggers of this country in the early days and although I have met some of these I do not remember that I ever questioned them as a boy about "Toodyay." One of the best of these speakers of the native language was Tommy McKnoe, for whom' I worked as a boy at Toodyay. I had many interesting talks with Tommy about the natives, and although I learnt much of their history and hab-its, this one subject was never men-tioned. Then there was Denis Griffin, a man who lived away out back shepherding for the sheepmen of Tood-yay. He lived a life of almost com plete isolation, his only companions for very long stretches, right ffrom boyhood being natives. He spoke sev-eral of the dialects perfectly. For

months on end during any of the years of his lifetime he spoke nothing but the aboriginal language and his only hobby to whittle cleverly out of jam wood and sandalwood the bell-yokes for the bell-wethers of the flocks he shepherded. One would think that such men must have known, still I never beard them mention it. As a boy a man like Den. Griffin who could sit for hours telling the open-mouthed kids like myself around him the most Interest-holding stories of the natives was to me a marvel. I would leave "Frank Read's Steam Horse" and "Buf-falo Bill's Wild Ride" any time to hear Denis Griffin.

There were some very Intelligent natives round Toodyay when I was a boy, and one of these was the King of the Avon Valley tribes, Jack Wam-man, or Wannan. Jack's fourth wlfe was a picturesque old wizen, for she used to limp round on one good foot and a hideous looking ankle-stump Her foot had been burned off one Toodyay show night when the lady had Inad-vertently left it in the fire. Toodyay

wine used to be wonderful stuff In

those days. Then there was Tommy Bimbah, whose glorious teeth, engag-. gaging smile and rotundity of form were the chief noticeable elements of one of the most channing old cad-gers I have ever met. I think Tommy Is still alive, and could probably be found somewhere along the Avon to-day in the old haunts he knew, some-where between Viveash’s, at Katrine, or The Range (Mr Clarkson*s) at Toodyay, and If we did find him he'd be sitting down in the shade, in the attitude of Buddha, with just as much stomach, but a far cheerier mien. The last time I met Tommy Bimbah was in Perth He had Just paid one of his regular visits to the "Bungalow," to "see John Forres’." But Tommy In-stead of getting his customary "tchil-lin'" had found gloom and sadness,

for Lord Forrest had died, away from his well-loved native land, and amongst his mourners was Tommy Bimbah. When Tommy told me of this sad in-telligence the tears ran down his fat old cheeks, and that he was utterly heartbroken I could see. I was able to assuage his grief to some extent by

momentarily performing the act which had been the lifelong pleasure of John Forrest. Such old natives were very fine types, and must have known how 'Toodyay" came about, but it never occured to them or any of us to dis-cuss the matter.

So, the other day I met Mr. E. C. D. Keyser, who has a "flair" for early Western Australian history, and hav-ing heard me boast that I came from Toodyay, just as the Wild Colonial Boy came from Castlemaine, he gave me what I believe will be accepted as. the most convincing solution of this little problem. It Is this: Toodyay (pronounced "Toojee") or Duidgee. was named after "Toodyeep, the pretty aboriginal wife of Coonebung who, with Waytung, accompanied Advocate-General G. F. Moore, Weenat, and a mounted policeman to the Valley of Gabbla-Tandirt, Moore River, in 1836. G. F. Moore described Tooyeep as the most beautiful aboriginal woman he had ever seen, "the fairest of the

fair." This appears in the diary of G. F. Moore, which was in the posses-

sion of the late Mr. A. C. Fraser.

So that's that—or it looks like it.