In 1808 somewhere in England, a baby girl was born to Mr. and Mrs. William Jones, farmers. One evening her father rushed from his dinner table to bring back a Catholic priest, who had been beaten by Protestants. He had fled to England during the French Revolution. To five-year-old Caroline, the kindness of her father remained in her heart.
At 22, Caroline married Lieutenant Archibald Chisholm of the Royal navy. She told him she intended to continue her family’s tradition of helping the poor. She didn’t know at that moment, only that Archibald had to support her if they were to remain man and wife. She sent Archibald away for a month to consider her words. He returned in 31 days.
They were first stationed in Madras, India, where Archibald worked at a fort in Black Town. Most soldiers’ wives lived in the city, but with her husband’s approval, Caroline chose to live at the fort. She opened a school for girls, mostly orphans, who were sold as slaves like cattle. Besides the basic 3 R’s, she taught them practical helps like housekeeping, market buying, and cooking. In India, Caroline bore her first of nine children.
In 1837 the Chisholms moved to Australia. The voyage took seven months! Caroline was appalled at the sight of young girls living in poverty, hunger, and filth because they were considered “trollops.” Actually, England had included the young girls (mostly Irish) on the convict, insane, and beggar ships they sent to Australia, to rid the country of “those lower classes.”
Caroline knew caring for the young Australian women was what God wanted her to do. She had persuaded Australia’s governor, Sir George Gipps, to give her one room (barren of furniture and 14’ x 14’) near the Sydney harbor to house the young immigrant girls. Actually, the room was a part of an abandoned barracks for which Caroline had originally asked. Sir George said no.
She requested “free mailing” to subsidize her work at the barracks. She was allowed this and solicited pledges from rich men. She also sized up her markets, so to say, by searching for information about the number of workers, their classes, and wages, in various districts of the country. This information helped her place her girls after their training.
Hundreds of girls arrived with nowhere to go, no money for food or lodging, and no work. One young woman, Mary Teague, without food for two days, was picked up by police and charged with drunkenness because she “was staggering.” She stood in the stocks for an hour. After her release, Mary wandered in a ditch and passed out.
After the newspaper printed the story, Sir George turned over the barracks for Caroline’s work. But when asked for their pledges, the businessmen rescinded. She became depressed over her problems.
Then she literally ran into a young woman named Flora, who was drunk and rude. Caroline sensed she contemplated suicide and stayed with the woman, so she talked to her about her family and gradually drew her story out of her. Her family had been disowned her, and since she had nowhere to go, she was going to drown herself.
Caroline saw this as God’s providence. She then acknowledged her complete dependence was upon the Divine.
The Protestant ministers funded Caroline’s worthy work. Soon the barracks sheltered 90 women. Caroline had to live there herself, separated from her family, for a year to continue the crucial work of upkeep and training and finding jobs for the women, as well as shooing men away.
Caroline trained the young women, then send them, often taking them herself, into various areas of Australia to gainful employment.
Back in England, Caroline died in poverty and of heart problems on March 25, 1877.
Today she is remembered well in Australia. Her picture is printed upon the five-dollar bill. High schools, colleges, libraries, health care centers, and homes for abused women are named after her. All because she relied totally upon God’s dependence.
"We're Marching to Zion"