A Ruff Family

Distant Shores: The Odyssey of Abraham Ruff

Prologue: Shadows of Zurich

On Christmas Day, 1812, Abraham Ruff was born into a Zurich blanketed by snow, the air sharp with the scent of pine and chimney smoke. Switzerland then was a patchwork of cantons, each clinging to its own traditions, languages, and loyalties. Life was slow and deliberate, church bells tolled the hours, and families gathered around hearths to fend off the Alpine chill. For a boy like Abraham, growing up meant learning the rhythms of a cobblestoned city: the clatter of wooden carts, the murmur of German, French, and Italian dialects, and the distant clang of blacksmiths shaping a world on the brink. The early 19th century offered little luxury; most lived modestly, their days dictated by seasons and faith. Yet, beneath this quiet, tensions simmered, Catholic and Protestant rivalries that would soon erupt, shaping the man Abraham would become.

Chapter 1: The Sonderbund’s Shadow

By 1847, Zurich was a city taut with unease. The Sonderbund War loomed, splitting Switzerland between Catholic defenders and Protestant reformers. For Abraham, now 34, life was a blend of labor and risk. He likely lived in a narrow, timber-framed house, its walls echoing with the shouts of political rallies outside. The air carried the tang of gunpowder and the sour sweat of fear as militias drilled in the streets. Markets buzzed with whispered conspiracies, and taverns overflowed with men debating over mugs of dark ale. Abraham backed the Catholic Sonderbund, he felt the weight of dwindling coins as he funded their cause. When war broke in November, cannon fire rumbled through the valleys, and blood stained the snow. Defeat came swiftly, and with it, the sting of betrayal and loss, now being chased for murder meant he had only one option, to flee. Fleeing meant abandoning a life of woolen coats and hearty stews for the unknown, his breath fogging in the frigid night as he slipped away alone.

Chapter 2: London’s Tempest

London in late 1847 was a beast of a city, its streets choked with coal smoke and the cries of costermongers. Abraham arrived amid the din of horse hooves and factory whistles, the Thames a sluggish ribbon of filth. Life here was raw, tenements sagged under the weight of families crammed into damp rooms, their days spent dodging cholera and scavenging for bread. For a newcomer like Abraham, survival meant navigating a labyrinth of accents and alleyways, his Swiss roots masked by a cautious tongue. The winter bit hard, with fog so thick it swallowed gaslights, and hunger gnawed at the poor. By March 1848, the Trafalgar Square Riots ignited this tinderbox. The square pulsed with the heat of bodies and the crack of breaking wood, the air thick with dust and defiance. Abraham, while walking was caught in the melee, he felt the adrenaline of rebellion, destruction by the youth at hand. Arrested, he endured the dank chill of a cell, the clank of iron bars a stark reminder of his fragility. Released, after the judge realized he could barely speak a word of English, or so he came across. Abraham soon after met and married Ann Gorman Eveson/Erison on 13th February 1849, their modest wedding a flicker of warmth amid London’s gray sprawl, her Irish lilt a balm to his restless soul. Ann became pregnant and gave birth to Louis Andrew Ruff on 28 May 1851 at 11 Pickard St, Finsbury.

Chapter 3: The Voyage of the Lord Delaval to Australia

The Lord Delaval was a wooden sailing ship and a fragile hope, its decks groaning under 700 tons of cargo and dreams. In September 1852, Abraham, Ann, and infant Louis stepped aboard, the salt air stinging their faces as England faded. Life at sea was a trial of endurance, the cabins reeked of unwashed bodies and tar, while storms tossed the ship like a toy, the horizon a relentless tease. Steerage passengers like them cooked meager meals on swaying stoves, the taste of salt pork and hardtack a daily monotony. Waves roared, and nights were pierced by the cries of the sick or the wails of a child, Louis, frail in Ann’s arms, his arrival to Australia not marked. Sophia Knight, a sprightly 10-year-old, darted among the rigging, her laughter a rare light. For Abraham, the journey was a gamble, his identity rewritten on the manifest as a 32 year old German tallow melter, along with his German wife Ann, each day a test of will against the vast, indifferent ocean. Arrival at Port Phillip on the 27th of February 1853 brought relief but no rest; the wagon to Melbourne jolted over rutted tracks, dust coating their throats as they clung to their new world.

Chapter 4: Melbourne’s Candle King

Melbourne in 1853 was a raw frontier, its streets a muddy churn of gold-rush dreamers and opportunists. Abraham soon was established at Queensbury Street, Hotham (North Melbourne), their home buzzed with the hiss of boiling tallow and the flicker of candlelight, the air heavy with grease and ambition. Life here was gritty, wooden shacks leaned against brick factories, and the Yarra River stank of refuse. Summers scorched, winters soaked, and flies plagued every meal of mutton and damper. They maintained their friendship with the Knight’s during this time, Sophia, now 18. For Ann, it was a battle to keep going after Louis's death, amid the soot, her hands chapped from the harsh life. Abraham thrived, his soap and candles a lifeline for a city craving order, though court fines for reckless horses hinted at his impatience with colonial rules. Ann’s death in 1860 left the house silent, the bronchitis that took her a cruel echo of London’s dampness. Sophia consoled Abraham during this time, and soon became his bride, bringing new energy, her youth clashing with her parents’ scowls. Sophia and Abraham had early losses, Sophia and Frederick, cast a pall. By 1863, young Abraham’s cries filled the factory, a symbol of endurance in a land that demanded grit. A shipment of Abraham’s candles that he was exporting sank in Port Phillip Bay, unfortunately, the insurance didn’t take effect until the ship was outside the Heads. With this financial blow, Abraham looked at alternative ways of making income, distilling.

Chapter 5: The Distiller’s Gambit

By 1868, Melbourne had grown into a bustling hub, its streets lined with gas lamps and the clatter of horse-drawn trams. Abraham’s factory was a hive of heat and hustle, the tang of spirits mingling with tallow’s musk as he distilled in secret. Life was a tightrope, prosperity teetered against the law’s watchful eye, and neighbors grumbled at the stench wafting from his yard. Sophia managed a growing brood, her days a blur of diapers and dough, the children’s laughter drowned by the city’s roar. The police raid on May 8 was a jolt, boots thudded on floorboards, and the still in full working order with some spirits betrayed him. Arrested, Abraham shivered in the lockup’s dank chill, illness gnawing at his bones until he was hospitalized. The community held a fundraising concert to pay the fine and set him free. Once again, in trouble with the law, it was time to move on. Sale beckoned—a quieter canvas for his restless spirit, the wagon ride there a dusty trek through eucalyptus-scented wilds.

Chapter 6: Sale’s Maverick

Sale in 1869 was a speck of civilization, its wooden storefronts dwarfed by endless plains. Abraham’s soap vats bubbled anew, the air thick with lye and promise, while Sophia stitched clothes by lamplight, her hands rough from toil. Abraham sold his soap making recipe for 100 pounds to J. Kitchen & Sons who were buying up all the smaller soap and candle manufacturers of Victoria at the time, this became the famous Velvet Soap. Life was simpler but harsh, dust storms coated everything, and summers baked the earth to iron. The family grew, each child a thread in their tapestry, though courtrooms remained a stage for Abraham’s defiance: unpaid rates, pilfered timber, petty debts. The Notre Dame de Sion Convent Garden offered respite, as he spoke French to the nuns in their native tongue, their habits rustling like whispers of Zurich. Abraham and Sophia adopted Arthur and Solomon while raising their own 8 children, which tied them to Sale, their young voices an echo of his own lost boys. Arthur died while fighting in Gallipoli in 1915. Chapter 7: The Hounds and the Legacy By the 1890s, Sale had settled into a rhythm, its streets alive with the clop of hooves and the chatter of settlers. Abraham, now stooped and gray, tended the convent’s roses, the scent a fleeting comfort against age’s ache. Nights were crisp, the sky a vast quilt of stars, until the greyhounds’ attack, a blur of teeth and terror, felled him. Death came gently on December 19, 1898, his breath fading in a room warmed by Sophia’s care. She endured until 1911, her final days shadowed by a redback spider’s bite, the woodpile a silent witness to her strength.

Epilogue: The Flame Endures

Abraham’s life was a flame that flickered across continents, fueled by courage and cunning. From Zurich’s Sonderbund War, to London’s Trafalgar Square Riots to Melbourne’s gritty dawn, he carved a path through a world in continual change, leaving a legacy of tales that inspire his kin to chase their own distant shores. Abraham and Sophia had a total of 10 children, first 2 dying in infancy - Sophia Emily Agnes and Frederick Edward, then Abraham, Sophia, Henry, Edward, Bertha, Rosa Bona, Frederick and Ida Violet, and the adoption of Arthur Abernethy and Solomon Perdon.

Abraham and Sophia's oldest son, Abraham became an awarded baker and member of the Sale Fire Brigade.

The Mercury Newspaper

Tuesday morning, January 24, 1893. A case of drowning is reported from the Glengarry river a few miles from Sale. Two young men named Abraham Ruff and William Jones were out in a boat when it overturned, and the latter was drowned, Abraham Ruff, though unable to swim, got ashore and reported the accident to the police.

The Maffra Spectator Newspaper

'Active Life Closes, The Late Mr Abraham Ruff' – “Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees its close. Something attempted, something done, has earned a night’s repose.” Longfellow's lines typify the life of Mr Abraham Ruff which ebbed to its close at the Gippsland Base Hospital, Sale, on Tuesday evening last, April 8th, in the beginning of his 90th year. A very old identity of Gippsland, the late Mr Ruff was born in Melbourne on April 6th 1863, and was the eldest son of the late Abraham and Sophia Ruff, with whom, at the age of 3, he went to Sale, travelling on the first stage by boat to Port Albert, and thence by wagon to Sale, where he recieved his primary education. At the age of 15 he commenced his career as a baker. Abraham was an awarded baker for the best bread during the Great War. His successful baking career started in Sale, then on to Maffra, Stratford, Bunyip and Melbourne. He was an accomplished athlete an expert dancer, enjoyed roller skating, shooting, fishing, reading and music. He had a generous and noble nature and was a teetotaler and non smoker. After his marriage to Miss Elizabeth Mary Monk, also of Sale, he built his own home opposite the Agricultural School Farm in Sale, where he lived until he took his wife and family to Maffra in 1913. From 1902 to that time he had cycled from his home in Sale to his work in Maffra each weekend. Although small in stature, he was possessed of a strong constitution, and until an illness about 10 years ago had never required medical attention, either privately or in hospital. The death of his wife 11 years earlier was a severe loss. Followed later by the death of 2 sons, Edward and Cyril, the unexpected death of the latter 2 years ago came as a great blow which undoubtedly undermined his natural good health. He leaves a family of 2 sons, Will and Theo, and 2 daughters, Alma and Renee to mourn loss of devoted father. He also leaves 16 grandchildren and 28 great grandchildren. Three brothers - Edward, Henry and Frederick, and three sisters - Sophie, Bertha and Bona survive him. One sister Ida, predeceased him. His funeral was held at St Mary’s Catholic Church, Maffra at 10am Saturday 12 April.

http://www.maffrafirebrigade.org.au/history/history.htm

Abraham established the Maffra Fire Brigade following a disastrous fire in Johnson St. Maffra on Christmas eve, 1913. Several shops from the shire offices to the national bank were destroyed in the fire. Abraham became Maffra Fire Brigades first Captain.

Compiled by Richard Ruff, son of Brian Ruff, son of Theodore Ruff, son of Abraham Ruff , son of Abraham Ruff.