Captain Matthew Flinders stares down on his new grave from a stained glass window. Some 14,000km away in the land he named, his portrait stares across our hallway.
Our local Lincolnshire hero’s first anniversary of his second funeral is already marked on the calendar. We still need to pinch ourselves to realise we were there to witness the event.
All it took was a casual ballot entry for a funeral service months beforehand, never believing we would get closer than a TV news item or a few column inches at the bottom corner of page three.
Now the memories of that day in Donington are chiselled into our ageing heads like a cerebral souvenir. His portrait receives a daily “Good morning, Captain”, and “thanks for the memory”.
For more than two centuries, Donington has had a long sleep-in, never believing it would become a go-to destination.
Edging the wild, rich fenlands of Lincolnshire, the village never made a fuss about its famous son, although a statue in its main street gave passing traffic a clue to someone of significance.
Yet his funeral last year has put it firmly on the map, and Aussies are visiting in increasing numbers to view his final resting place.
The residents of Donington celebrated the solemn occasion with respect and dignity for the cartographer whom they claimed as their own.
A bond between Australia and the county had always existed through the birthplace of the man who gave the Great Southland its name. Yet the second funeral for Flinders, 210 years after his first, has made Donington famous, and its 3000-plus villagers glowed with pride as they laid him to rest.
The explorer named Terra Australis, mapping the coastline so accurately that today’s charts can be overlaid with few amendments.
Australia owes so much to this Lincolnshire seaman who, as a youngster, influenced by reading the novel Robinson Crusoe, fell in love with the sea.
Defying his father’s wishes to continue the family profession in medicine, Flinders joined the Royal Navy aged just 15, where he can certainly be recognised as a man who left his mark. His determination, bravery and resourcefulness, often in the face of great adversity, made him a remarkable seaman.
South Australia’s Eyre Peninsula is spread with place names from his native Lincolnshire. Port Lincoln, on Boston Bay, heads the list.
Across Australia the name Flinders abounds in endless street names, a university, a mountain range, a railway station, and a Bass Strait island, to name just a few.
Yet in the UK he had only received scant recognition. That was until 2019 when excavations for the HS2 railway at London’s Euston Station unearthed a mass burial site. The authorities knew Flinders was buried with 60,000 others, but finding that one rotting coffin was considered a “needle in a haystack” challenge.
It was eventually discovered by archaeologist Robert Hartle, not by chance, but amazingly by a lead plaque labelled “Capt. Matthew Flinders”, affixed to a small wooden casket.
Commemorative statues outside Euston Station and in Donington’s main street(both with his faithful black cat, Trim) recognise Flinders, but now a large question mark emerged.
The HS2 company had taken possession of his remains. But the problem of what to do with the coffin and contents was posed.
Ship them to Australia where he is almost revered? Possibly a site in London? “No”, said the residents of Donington. “We want him back home.”
The Bring Him Home movement was born. He would be buried in the church of St Mary and the Holy Rood with a simple ceremony, in the church where plaques for his family and a memorial corner already existed.
But the era of COVID-19 lockdowns and restricted travel delayed the gathering of international guests.
Five years of hard work, planning and raising funds by Jane Pearson, Carol Holt and their committee eventually reached fruition.
Little did the organisers realise how the occasion of his reinterment would put their village on the map.
July 13, 2024 saw an event to challenge anything the villagers had ever imagined: pomp and ceremony, their streets decorated with British and Australian flags and bunting. Police estimated 6000-7000 lined those streets.
Members of the armed forces stood to attention as the hearse made its slow, dignified journey to the church.
The entry procession into St Mary’s was led by the Bishop of Lincoln, the Right Reverend Stephen Conway, and the Governor of South Australia, the Honourable Frances Adamson.
Australia’s Assistant Naval Attache, John Relyea, represented the ADF.
Bare-headed Royal Navy pallbearers shouldered Flinders’ remains in a tiny coffin.
The packed church saw a fitting tribute for the man who died so young, but contributed so much in his busy lifetime.
There were speakers from family, representatives from Australia, Mauritius (where Flinders spent six years during the Napoleonic Wars) and the UK.
Tributes and eulogies preceded the interment. After his casket was lowered into the grave, representatives of the UK, Australia and Mauritius cast soils from their respective countries on his coffin — a close replica of the one discovered at Euston.
Indigenous representatives included descendants of Bungaree, Flinders’ Aboriginal guide when the mapmaking travels encountered local tribes. Remaining relatives of Flinders were also present at the service.
The SA Governor was presented with the original coffin breastplate by Martha Flinders Lewis, the great, great, great-granddaughter of Matthew Flinders. The plaque is now on display at Flinders University’s campus in Adelaide.
Parties and fireworks completed the event, yet memories of a celebratory funeral for the villagers will be more than flags, bunting and bands. Now the solitary statue of Flinders and his cat in Station Street have been joined by the man himself, securely back in the village of his birth.
Today Donington is on the tourist trail, with Jane Pearson seeing “so many overseas signatures in the visitors book . . . and we know we get Aussie visitors every week now.”
Local newspapers are already recording a “boost for local businesses” as Australians join the pilgrimage to St Mary’s church.
Donington may have laid its hero to rest but they are intending to keep his memory alive. This year’s first anniversary will be marked with a service at St Mary’s, with wreath-laying by naval representatives.
The village’s dedication to the great man will continue with plans for a Flinders museum within the church.
And 14,000km away, our hallway portrait will remind us every day of the man who named Australia.
However, Lincolnshire’s seafaring reputation doesn’t stop with Flinders. George Bass sailed with him on the HMS Reliance.
Born at Aswarby in 1771, just 17km from Donington and three years earlier than Flinders, Bass accompanied him aboard the Tom Thumb to explore Botany Bay.
Only 2.4m long and 1.5m wide, the tiny craft was sailed by the two Lincolnshire lads through treacherous seas. A cabin boy, William Martin, was also aboard to do the baling.
Their adventures on that voyage and a subsequent visit on a larger boat, Tom Thumb 2, included contact with local Aboriginal people, and exploration as far as Lake Illawarra and Port Hacking.
Sir John Franklin, noted for his exploration of the Northwest Passage, was born at nearby Spilsby, Lincolnshire, in 1786. As a young midshipman, Franklin was aboard the HMS Investigator with Flinders as they explored and mapped the coast of Australia.
His illustrious career included six years as Lieutenant Governor of Tasmania (then Van Diemen’s Land) and service during the Napoleonic Wars. He rose to the rank of Rear Admiral.
Long lives were not accorded to these Lincolnshire sailors. Flinders died aged 40. Bass, aged 32, was last seen leaving Port Jackson (now Sydney) to sail to Chile. No evidence of his ship and crew has ever been found.
Bass is best remembered for his voyage with Flinders around Tasmania to prove it was an island. Bass Strait is named after him.
Franklin lived the longest, but perished at the age of 61 when his ship became icebound off King William Island in the frozen north of Canada in 1843.
