Crush Widow

I came across the phrase ‘crush widow’ on another blog I follow (http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/motdujour/.) The author’s husband was knee deep (excuse the pun) in crushing grapes for their vineyard and she discovered the phrase is commonly used in the wine making industry to describe her state for never seeing her spouse during that time.
Does this phrase sum up Jean Emile’s wife, Margaret Humphrey’s experience when they started the coveted winery Eumalga Estate, outside Dubbo around 1868? Said to have been the second largest winery in Australia at the time it must have consumed Jean Emile’s time. I wonder was the phrase already in use then?
Perhaps she worked the vineyard as well.  It was certainly where she and Jean Emile’s manager, Rene Bertaux became close.  She married Rene following Jean Emile’s death … with dire consequence.
Margaret’s story is only one I’ve gleaned bits and pieces of in my research, until last night, after transcribing names from her and Jean’s marriage certificate and wondering who everyone was in the 1858 wedding party.
An extensive family tree online which revealed Margaret’s father had three daughters from a previous marriage and nine more with Margaret’s mother. Three siblings, two half sisters and  herself all ended up in Australia.
Her brother in law John Ernest Robberds was a witness at the wedding along with W L Humphreys whose initials don’t match any sibling, so possibly an uncle? Another brother John, 18 years her senior and her guardian (their father died when she was 6), gave her away.
When she married Jean Emile he was 34 and quite a catch. Self made, industrious, a civic leader, land holder, property owner, a girl would be a fool in the 1850s to turn down an opportunity to be kept well with some status to boot while making 10 babies for the next 18 years of her life!
An illegitimate daughter who Jean Emile apparently fathered 12 years prior in the neighbouring town of Wellington, was also a pretty typical story of the age, but no-one except the parties involved seem to have known about her, though descendants bare combinations of his names.
Margaret’s father was a solicitor so she may have been Jean Emile’s intellectual match and was his sounding board for the many ventures and responsibilities he undertook, faithful it appears to the end.
Her undoing was Rene Bertaux who evidence suggests conned her and wooed her at the same time. Widowed at 42 it’s hard to imagine she didn’t have better prospects as the inheritor of a substantial estate but perhaps she fell in love and got burned.
It begs the question when and how did Jean Emile and Margaret first meet? Whether love or circumstance played a part or not?
The photo of Margaret is courtesy of William Serisier, Jean Emile’s great grand son.