RYLEY John Rutherford

John Rutherford Ryley is on the roll as a Civil Surgeon , entitled to the Medal with No Clasp . His Medal was returned to Woolwich Mint , all the returned medals were all melted down .
90th

90th wrote:

John Rutherford Ryley is on the roll as a Civil Surgeon , entitled to the Medal with No Clasp . His Medal was returned to Woolwich Mint , all the returned medals were all melted down .
90th

This man was my great great grandfather. He roamed the world before his death in Australia and I have often wondered if his medal had survived. Can you tell me how you know the medal was returned to Woolwich and subsequently melted down?

Many thanks

Nicholas Young

Hi Nicholas
It's stated in the Forsyth Medal Roll that all Medals returned to Woolwich Mint were melted down on their return .
90th

Nicholas it states in the Forsyth Medal Roll that there were 193 Medals issued to the Army Medical Department , of which 3 were returned to the Woolwich Mint , one of those being your Great , Great Grandfather's .
90th

90th wrote:

Nicholas it states in the Forsyth Medal Roll that there were 193 Medals issued to the Army Medical Department , of which 3 were returned to the Woolwich Mint , one of those being your Great , Great Grandfather's .
90th

Thank you for your prompt reply. Do we know why these medals were returned? Presumably the medals had to be claimed by the recipients and, if so, a delivery address must have been provided. Was it just a matter of not being able to find Ryley and effectively someone put "return to sender" or were they returned by the recipient or his next of kin?

I don't expect you to know the answer (if indeed there is one) but I would value your opinion !

Best regards,

Nick

Hi Nick

There is a surviving document in the National Archives at Kew which is entitled "Unclaimed and Forfeited Medals, List of Medals returned to the Principal Ordnance Officer, Woolwich, on 3rd November 1897, to be melted. South African Medals Good Conduct Medals". The Forsyth Roll is based on that plus the medal roll for the South Africa General Service Medal.

Civil Surgeon J R Ryley is on page 14 of that list of medals returned to Woolwich showing his entitlement to a "no clasp" medal.

As you can see from the date of return to Woolwich, the medals had been kept for quite some time before they were melted down.  The Army may not have had an address for Surgeon Ryley at the time the medals were struck, or by then the address was out of date and the medal was returned (it does not say that in the archives). So, the chances are he did not make a claim for it himself and it would only have gone to the next of kin if the recipient was deceased (at the time if that was known, or subsequently if it had been claimed and had been proved). But no note in the records of that happening either.

Steve

Hi Nicholas
Happy to try and be of some help . Steve has summed it nicely .
90th

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Geelong Advertiser (Vic. : 1859 - 1929) Fri 13 Apr 1888

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The Grenfell Record and Lachlan District Advertiser (NSW : 1876 - 1951)  Saturday 8 March 1884

Well I certainly wasn't expecting those articles when this thread was started ! , very interesting .
90th

rusteze wrote:

Hi Nick

There is a surviving document in the National Archives at Kew which is entitled "Unclaimed and Forfeited Medals, List of Medals returned to the Principal Ordnance Officer, Woolwich, on 3rd November 1897, to be melted. South African Medals Good Conduct Medals". The Forsyth Roll is based on that plus the medal roll for the South Africa General Service Medal.

Civil Surgeon J R Ryley is on page 14 of that list of medals returned to Woolwich showing his entitlement to a "no clasp" medal.

As you can see from the date of return to Woolwich, the medals had been kept for quite some time before they were melted down.  The Army may not have had an address for Surgeon Ryley at the time the medals were struck, or by then the address was out of date and the medal was returned (it does not say that in the archives). So, the chances are he did not make a claim for it himself and it would only have gone to the next of kin if the recipient was deceased (at the time if that was known, or subsequently if it had been claimed and had been proved). But no note in the records of that happening either.

Steve

Thank you both for this fascinating insight. I was aware of Ryley's name on the original roll (I have a copy) but was not aware of the roll of unclaimed medals. Very interesting. If anyone out there is researching Rutherford Ryley, feel free to get in touch. I have a great deal of information on him.

Best regards,

Nicholas Young

More than interesting Gary, Bloody impressive Andy.

Thanks for your kind words Frank

Pages 13/14
https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2241010/pdf/brmedj04889-0032.pdf&ved=0ahUKEwil0ofytMjUAhVjIMAKHUeAAEY4ChAWCB8wAA&usg=AFQjCNGWdyvAKkd5X9uTZ7ijkgxutnQgcw&sig2=lKWyN6CrcmzJU4EC75NMNg

A book is being re-printed in 2017. There is an account from Ryley, John Rutherford

http://link.kotui.org.nz/portal/The-diggers-story--accounts-of-the-West-Coast/_Gyhzt5sI1I/

The following is posted on behalf of Nicholas Young and Copyright to Nicholas Young.

Many thanks Nick for sharing your research and information.

Here is an abridged version of my ancestor's life story written in glorified note form. I have also included a piece, written in narrative form, which covers some of Ryley's activities in South Africa. I think the story is well known but it ties in the attitudes of the two key personalities rather well. I do not pretend to be an expert on the Zulu War so forgive any errors and correct them if you feel it appropriate.

Best regards,

Nick

John Rutherford Ryley was born c. 1835 in Waterford, Ireland. His father was a sailor who abandoned the family during his wife’s second pregnancy and subsequently deserted his ship at Quebec. John’s Scottish mother took her young son back to Scotland where his younger brother, Bernard, was born in 1837. At some point, the surname became Anglicised and, by the 1851 census it is shown as Ryley. John’s first employment was as a clerk to writer (i.e. solicitor) J. Jeffray's at 135 Buchanan Street. Jeffray was also secretary to the, Garnick And Wishaw Railway. Jeffray also had an address at Clarence Place 137 Sauchiehall Street which was shared with either his father or brother James Jeffrey M.D. This may well have influenced John’s decision to study medicine
.

Hhe attended Anderson's University and studied Anatomy 1857-8. From 1858-9 he studied Materia Medica, Midwifery and Botany. He won 1st prize in Midwifery for the best essay on 'The Induction of Labour' and equal first for best essay on ‘The Action of Cathartics’. In the summer session
1858, he won best exercise on Physiological Botany.

By 1858 he was living at 402, Parliamentary Road Glasgow from where he married Margaret Skirving (at 125, Grafton Terrace on 19th July celebrated by Rev Alex Lock). During 1860 John was studying under Lister, who was professor of surgery at Glasgow University 1860-9. Living now at 30, Scotia Road, a son was born in June 1861. Sadly john’s wife died in childbirth. In 1862 John qualified as an L.R.C.S. (Edinburgh). He also later qualified as an M.R.C.S. In 1863 john decided to start a new life in far-off New Zealand. It was a not a suitable trip for a baby and his son, William, was left behind with his grandparents. Working his passage as the ship’s doctor on the Sir William Eyre, John arrived at Invercargill, New Zealand some six months later. For a while, he lived in Dee Street opposite the Prince of Wales Hotel. In October 1863, John married for a second time - to Charlotte Robinson at her father's house (Chatsworth House). In 1864 John moved to Westland (still in New Zealand) and registered at Queenstown 12th October. In 1865 he became administrator of the hospital, gaol and lunatic asylum for the county of Westland. A second son, George, was born in November 1865. After a brief return to Scotland, on 7th March 1867 he re-registered with a new magistrate at Hokitika. In April the following year, he regist-
ered as a doctor with the New Zealand Medical Board. In December 1869 he resigned his
Westland/Hokitika posts. Abandoning his wife there, he set off for Fiji with George his son. He arrived there 13th may 1870. The following year, he became M.P. and coroner for Levuka - serving under the only recently retired cannibal, King Cakobau. John left Fiji on 26th July 1873 aboard the
Meteor with his mistress, his son and servant - bound for Sydney. He travelled from there in the
'Victoria' and arrived in Western Australia 30th sept 1873 to take up the post
of resident medical officer at Roebourne. On 1st sept 1874 he was appointed
resident M.O. at Champion Bay but stayed in the post less than two months. He departed from Fremantle in February 1875, leaving his son in the care of his solicitor. Travelling aboard the "James Wilson"
he arrived in Adelaide South Australia in the early morning of Wednesday 10th March 1875. The ship,
captained by R. Prideaux ,was a barque of 326 tons. It off-loaded 6,456 sleepers at Port Pirie en route. Five days later an advert appeared in the South Australia Register advertising John’s hours of consultation: 9-11 am, 3-4 and 7-8 p.m. His address was given as 2, Clara Terrace, Franklin Street West. He returned to England to work at the Royal Opthalmic Hospital Moorfield, and at the Hospital for the Throat Ear and Chest Golden Square, London. Perhaps in preparation for taking up a post in America,
in 1879 he qualified as an M.D. in Pennsylvania. For most of1879, however, John was in South Africa serving in the Zulu War as a senior medical officer at a field hospital. Civil Surgeon Ryley was posted to Krantzkop in general order no. 48 dated 4th March 1879 (Times of Natal, 7th March 1879). After the war, he left Cape Town on the R.M.S. Nubian (Capt. W. Bainbridge) arriving in Southampton via Madeira on 17th Nov 1879 (source Cape Argus) by Union Steam Ship (records at Southampton Record Office). On 4th December he qualified as an F.R.C.S. (Edinburgh), and headed for America. Travelling north by train, he arrived in Canada and from Feb 24th 1880, he was practising from 52, Park St in Hamilton, Ontario. He did not stay for long – there were far too many doctors in the town, and the extreme cold was not to his liking. He last advertised in the local paper on May 4th 1880 (sources Hamilton Evening Times and the Hamilton Spectator). John went straight from Canada to Australia in May/June 1880 travelling in the 540 ton steamship "Wotonga" (master, James Banks). He travelled from Melbourne to Sydney N.S.W. and during that year was, according to medical directories, medical officer. to Temora & Tenterfield hospitals. By February 1883 he was M.O. to Gulgong Hospital N.S.W. In April 1883 he took up practice with Dr.
Newton at Mudgee, N.S.W. Through overwork and stress, John suffered a collapse and knocked himself unconscious. His old friend and solicitor (who had taken John’s son under his wing) suggested he visit Sydney for a rest. In late February 1884, John stayed at the Post Office Hotel Sydney for a few days. Keeping himself to himself, he took a mixture of prussic acid and morphia before sitting down to read a newspaper in the lounge. He was found in a comatose state and rushed to Sydney hospital where he lingered on for a while before dying on March 3 1884. He lies buried at the Sydney Necropolis. For a detailed account of his time in South Africa, see below:


…as the war continued, there was a chronic shortage of army surgeons. At least fifty more were needed and the gap could only be filled by recruiting civilians. John Rutherford Ryley volunteered immediately and in mid-February set off on the Taymouth Castle to take up his position as senior medical officer in a field hospital in Natal. John was not the only surgeon on board; he was accompanied three others who had similarly volunteered. The ship was only a couple of years old and was designed to carry both cargo and passengers in relative comfort. A mixture of steam and sail, she was long and slim (330 feet by 33.8 feet) and as swift as modern technology allowed.


S.S. Taymouth Castle in which Drs Johnson, Wood, Linden and Ryley set sail in February 1879


The ship docked in early March, and on 7th John received his orders. He was to replace Dr C.S.Reed, at Krantzkop some 15 miles from the Tugela River – the border between Zululand and Natal. Dr Reed’s engagement had expired, and these facts were duly reported in the Times of Natal. Some seven weeks later, Reed was given another appointment with No 1 division but rumours abounded that he was an alcoholic and had become incapable of carrying out his duties at Krantzkop. If so, he was not alone; boredom due to inactivity had become prevalent in the camp. But the excessive drinking produced some practical results; the ditch surrounding the fortification was filled with empty bottles, deliberately broken so as to form “an outer defence” against the barefoot Zulu. In common with Rorke’s Drift, the field hospital that John inherited comprised 25 beds - and, to the surprise of wounded Zulu warriors, treatment was available in all the army hospitals to fighters from both sides. The situation when John arrived was an uneasy one – the Zulu had not been the pushover everyone had thought and the mood at Krantzkop was tense. A fort had recently been built on a nearby hill in anticipation of the Zulu arrival and was named Fort Cherry - in honour of the commanding officer, Captain Cherry. But for the moment, the war seemed to pass Krantzkop by and waiting for action was almost worse than the fear of attack. Soldiers prepared themselves for battle by training their horses to stay calm in the face of a noisy enemy. Both native and European soldiers played Zulu and beat spears against shields. The first exercise ended in disaster with the horses running in every direction, rearing up and throwing their riders - but they soon learned to ignore all distractions and stand firm. The officers organised sporting events to relive the tedium, with black soldiers showing particular skill at spear throwing. In time, boredom turned to anxiety and the situation was not helped by the news that, in the month of John’s arrival, hundreds of British troops had been slaughtered two separate battles in which the Zulu had been victorious. However the situation was about to change dramatically in Britain’s favour. On 29th March General Wood found himself besieged at Kambula with only 2,000 soldiers defending an attack from over 20,000 Zulu – almost their entire army. Had they followed their king’s orders and attempted to draw the British out and fight them on open ground, they might have been victorious. As it was, with the loss of only 29 soldiers, the enemy was defeated with the loss of over 1,000 men.
The spirit of the over-confident Zulu was now broken and the threat to Krantzkop rapidly receded. A few patrols were sent out to harass the enemy but the lax attitude towards heavy drinking which had been the downfall of John’s predecessor appeared to get worse over the next few days as boredom set in amongst the remaining troops. One officer in particular had been hitting the bottle harder than most. Just over a week after the Zulu defeat at Kambula, 32 year-old Lieutenant Robert D'Ombrain of the 1st Natal Native Contingent realised that things had got out of hand and on the afternoon of Sunday 6th April went to see John about his symptoms.
“I’ve been having a glass too much,” he volunteered, “…I’m feeling nervous and out of sorts.” John examined his patient and noted his foul tongue. D’Ombrain confirmed that he was suffering from constipation, vomiting and was having difficulty sleeping. John had much experience of this when in Hokitika and he thought the problem might be ‘incipient delirium tremens’ but in the absence of any defining symptoms – such as shaking hands or a wild, scared look, he decided to treat his patient for what he called ‘drunkard’s dyspepsia’ and gave D’Ombrain a laxative. “Do you want to come into the hospital?” suggested John, confirming, when asked, that he could not offer him a tent to himself. D’Ombrain was anxious that the whole camp should not find out about his difficulties, “I prefer to be treated in my own tent,” was his response. So he returned to his tent and remained there, later receiving a visit from fellow officer Lieutenant Grantham - who failed to notice anything unusual in his friend’s behaviour that day.
John was concerned about his patient – these were symptoms he recognised well and having seen temporary insanity in New Zealand the thought crossed his mind that this might be the cause of D’Ombrain’s difficulties; yet when had John asked him anything was troubling him, he replied with a firm “No”. John failed to find any signs of insanity and so did not see any need to have someone watch over him. Early the following day, D’Ombrain was lying in his stretcher, smoking, when Lieutenant George Hornby, newly returned from leave, came to see him. Hornby asked him how he was. “Feeling much better,” D’Ombrain replied “...but I have been very light headed and can’t remember anything that has taken place the last day or two”. The rest of their conversation was perfectly rational and Hornby departed after a while, leaving his friend a book to help pass the time. At around 10:30 John paid his patient a visit, accompanied by medical orderly Corporal Wood. There he discovered that the laxative had not worked, and that his patient had not slept well. He promised to send Corporal Wood back that afternoon to give D’Ombrain an injection and something that would help him sleep - hoping that D’Ombrain would not be so foolish as to mix the sedative with alcohol which might produce fatal results. At some point in the day, brother officer Lieutenant Grantham also dropped in to see how his friend was feeling.
Lieutenant Grantham visited his ailing comrade again at about 11 the following morning, accompanied by Lieutenant Hornby and his brother Arthur Hornby. The three stayed with their friend until about 1 pm when Grantham and Arthur Hornby left the tent. His brother, George, remained, and he and D’Ombrain both smoked together for a while. Hornby thought the conversation was a little strange and noticed that his friend made some rather odd statements. A couple of times, D’Ombrain left the tent for a short time. Returning from one of these forays, D’Ombrain muttered “They are coming”. “Who is coming?” asked George “Oh! They are coming,” D’Ombrain repeated. The conversation was becoming increasingly irrelevant when D’Ombrain suddenly blurted out “There was only one woman that had ever threatened me”. But Hornby was not unduly concerned by his friend’s strange pronouncements and, in time, made to leave - intending to return shortly.
At around 10 the following morning, Lieutenant Grantham came to visit again. Overhearing some of his soldiers speaking in an African language he did not understand, and suffering now from mild paranoia, D’Ombrain suddenly asked “What are they saying about me?” Grantham assured him that the soldiers were merely talking around the fire and not discussing him. D’Ombrain appeared to accept this, observing “I must be light-headed”. Grantham left but returned soon afterwards with the Hornby brothers, and the three officers stayed with D’Ombrain for half an hour or so, during which time their friend’s conversation appeared to be coherent. So much so that none of them thought to report his earlier rants to John. Shortly afterwards, John and Corporal Wood returned to see how the patient was progressing. “I could not sleep well last night,” complained D’Ombrain and he confirmed that his beef tea and toast had not been administered as regularly as John had directed. Ryley thought his patient looked gloomy but again failed to detect any signs of insanity. He knew, however, that his patient was in need of proper nursing. “You would be better off in hospital,” John advised but D’Ombrain refused unless he could go after dark. John insisted that he needed better care “I will send two orderlies this afternoon” he told his patient but, understanding his concerns, said he would send them at a time when his departure to the hospital would not be noticed by the other officers or his men. D’Ombrain appeared to agree. John then asked D’Ombrain to call his servant, Cherabanya. “Make some beef tea and do not leave the tent,” instructed John. About half-an-hour later, John ordered Corporal Wood to administer a sedative: chloryl hydrate – a colourless solid that Wood dissolved in water before giving it to D’Ombrain .
Avoiding the intense late-morning sun, at around 11 am John was in his tent in the company of Captain Mongomery. This man had been responsible for getting D’Ombrain his commission and was a close friend of the family. Suddenly, the peace and quiet of an otherwise tranquil day was shattered by a loud bang and the sinister whistle of a speeding bullet. George Hornby was in his own tent next to D’Ombrain’s, and he immediately realised where the noise had come from. He rushed to see what had happened, and as he approached, could see smoke seeping out of the door of the tent. Inside, he was greeted by the sight of his friend‘s lifeless body lying on his back and a hole in the wall of the tent where the fatal bullet had passed through a millisecond after serving its intended purpose. Hornby’s immediately ran to his superior, Captain Montgomery, to report that his friend had shot himself. John and Montgomery rushed to the tent and surveyed the appalling scene. It was not difficult to work out what had happened. D’Ombrain had got off his stretcher, made his way to the other side of the tent and shot himself with his own rifle. The muzzle was now resting on the lower part of his trunk but a riding crop still resting across the trigger revealed the methodology. D’Ombrain had pushed the trigger by balancing each foot on either end of the crop. A single bullet was all that was needed to break both jaws, blow a hole through the back of his head and through the canvas of the tent with which he had shared his demons for the last few days of his troubled life.
There was an inquiry of course, chaired by Captain Cherry. No blame was attached to John’s part in the affair but D’Ombrain’s fellow officers received some criticism for not bringing the dead man’s incoherent ramblings to John’s attention.
D’Ombrain lies in a solitary grave at Krantzkop marked by a headstone which gives no clue as to the tragic events that took place here. Back in England there is a plaque on the wall of St Mary’s church in Westwell, Kent, placed there by the vicar - his grieving father:

In loving remembrance/ of Robert, Lieu. 1st Natal Native Contingent,/ 2nd Son of the Rev H Honeywood D'Ombrain,/ Vicar of this Parish,/ who died at Fort Cherry, Kranz Kop, Natal,/ April 8th 1879, Aged 32 years.