Annie Madeline JULIUS 
- Born: 9 Jan 1877, Chelsea London
- Christened: 11 Feb 1877, Southery NFK
- Marriage (1): Frank Beresford Campbell FORD  on 10 Apr 1928 in Queensland Aust.
- Died: 2 Mar 1968, Sandgate Qld. aged 91
Another name for Annie was Mac or Madge.
Annie Madeline Julius
Birth Date: 9 Jun 1877
Baptism Date: 11 Feb 1877
Baptism Place: Southery, Norfolk, England
Search Photos: Search for 'Southery' in the UK City, Town and Village Photos collection
Father: Arthur Cooper Julius
Mother: Alice Julius
Annie Madeline was a founder of the "The Queensland Bush Book Club". She was also in contact with Sir George Julius and did some family history research with him. She was the only child to remain in contact with A C Julius. Known to her mother as Madge and to the younger generation as Mac.
Granville School Maryborough Qld Records show:
Madeline Julius 356 14 Nov 1882 2D 7-14
Julius Jottings January 1901 No 4.
Miss Madeline Julius, from Brisbane, has been visiting her relations in England.
Australian Electoral Rolls 1903 Hamilton Brisbane. Madeline was recorded as a typist of Windermere Rd.
Julius Jottings. January 1902 No 6
IMPRESSIONS OF ENGLAND FROM AN AUSTRALIAN POINT OF VIEW :
Our Editor has asked me to write, for the Jottings, my impressions, as an Australian, on first visiting England. To tell the truth, the morning I landed I would have given anything to turn back there and then. I didn't know anyone, and felt sure all the relations would think me a perfect savage, but it was not long before I found that a Julius has not much to fear from relations, and very soon, instead of running away, I wanted to stay altogether.
Australians are inclined to look at England through rosecoloured spectacles, I suppose, because our father and mothers always talk of it as " home," and think anything that comes from England so very much better than if it were got here; besides, we all have a reverence for the old motherland which we cannot feel for our adopted one, which is so new. I was fortunate in having a lovely bright sunny day to go up the Channel, and the sea was beautifully smooth.
We sighted the Lizard at noon, a funny thrill went down my back, to think it was England at last, and we gave vent to our feelings by a good old British cheer. We were close enough to the shore to see towns and villages, with our glasses; and were amazed at the greenness of the tiny fields, which looked like pocket handkerchiefs, and the hedges like borders; we wondered how the farmers managed to keep their cows from jumping into the next field when they felt inclined. I found afterwards that English cows are obedient and stay where they are put.
We anchored at Gravesend that night, and landed early next morning, the last day of May. Going up by train to St. Pancras is rather a disappointing first view of London, but we had a little excitement over a scarecrow, which was new to us, and had bets as to whether it was alive or not, but which we were never able to claim, as no one could prove which of us was right.
London was the greatest surprise and delight to me. The old grey buildings, with bright flower boxes at every window are charming and the Parks looked lovely, just in their first fresh green. It was such a surprise, too, to find at least one tree in every street, and generally a square with several trees and nice green grass. I always thought, from what I had read, that London was a grey, gloomy place, but that is a great mistake, for in June it is delightfully fresh and bright. It didn't strike me at first as being such an enormous city, but after a week of going out all day and every day to different places, and never coming to the end of the streets or the crowds, it began to grow on me what an immense size London is. The way the traffic is managed is marvellous, and a policeman is certainly a splendid man, and knows everything. The crowd of people are most fascinating, I loved to watch them. Everyone seemed always in such a hurry, as if they were going to catch a train, and there wasn't a minute to lose. The way they measure distance by time amused me very much. You say: "How far is it to such and such a place?" And you invariably get the answer, "Oh! so many minutes."
What I enjoyed most of all was the old Cathedrals and Churches; they are wonderful, and make one feel so small and insignificant. The services are beautiful, and the singing sounds heavenly in those lofty old buildings. I was amazed at the beautiful carving and workmanship that people in the old days put into their churches; they must have given in a very different way to what we do nowadays, and we reap the benefit. Surely, English people who can go to one of those beautiful cathedral services every day, if they like, ought to be much better than their less fortunate brothers and sisters out here, who have only a little wooden barn to worship in, and one poor hard-worked Parson to work a district large enough for half a dozen parishes!
Of course, the theatres were the best I have ever seen, but I wonder that actors like such a quiet and apparently unappreciative audience; here we have the curtain up after every act, and every point through the piece is applauded. From London I went to the seaside at Hunstanton, and then on to Whitby, which was charming. I was delighted with the quaint old fishing town, and its interesting ruined Abbey. We went to Scarborough, too. "A fashionable watering place" seemed very strange to me; our seaside resorts are such free and easy places, and of course we have no grand promenade like the " Spa," or band stands or concert halls; we leave all that kind of thing for the town, and live picnic fashion by the sea.
The way English people can walk was quite a revelation to me. At Whitby we used to walk eight or ten miles in an afternoon, quite an unheard of thing in Queensland this; and weren't tired after it either. But, I think, partly what keeps one from wearying is so many changes of scene. We would start sometimes along a coast guard's path, high up along the cliffs, then cut across the fields by a flagged footway and stiles, and perhaps follow up a stream through dark shady woods, where the only sound that breaks the stillness is the music of the trickling water of the stoney little becks, and up narrow lanes with high hedges and damp, mossy banks, full of all kinds of wild flowers and grasses, which tempt one dreadfully to loiter by the way.
Somehow, we always managed to come across a station and a train to take us home in time for tea, which was very convenient, though I think it must have been due more to our guide's good management, than to luck. In one walk; we would have rugged sea coast, then quiet fields, and shady woods, and sometimes heather covered moorland as well; no wonder the country people are content to stay in the same tiny village all their lives when they have so much beauty round them.
The old fishermen and women were very interesting, but I coudn't understand them, the Yorkshire dialect is quite a foreign language; they live in such picturesque funny little villages right on the edge of the cliffs, as if there wasn't an inch of land to spare.
Autumn came all too soon, though the golden tints are glorious, and then winter, and the bare trees, with a beauty all their own, which I did not fully realise until I woke one morning to find the ground and every twig and branch covered with snow ; it was really heavenly, and it seemed wicked to mar the beautiful whiteness by walking over it. However, I found to my sorrow that it didn't last long, and a thaw is anything but beautiful.
Disagreeable things are best left alone, so I will say nothing about the weather, except that you should come to Queensland to know what a blue sky is like.
I had nearly forgotten the houses. The rows of terraces all alike are simply hatefully ugly, and I am afraid most of the people have to live in them; but the pretty country houses are delightful, and I never knew what comfort was until I had lived in one, and realised what it is to have hot and cold water and electric light everywhere, and beautifully roomy cupboards. Why! it takes away all the terrors of housekeeping !
But my pen is going too fast, and I must not encroach any more on your valuable space, except to say that I said good-bye to England with nothing but regrets, and my greatest wish now is to go back again.
1. Census: England, 3 Apr 1881, Parsonage Crowfield Suffolk. Annie is described as a daughter aged 4 born Chelsea MDX
Annie married Frank Beresford Campbell FORD  [MRIN: 288] on 10 Apr 1928 in Queensland Aust. (Frank Beresford Campbell FORD  was born in 1859 and died on 20 Sep 1948.)