family history

Untangling My Convict Roots in Australia

/ Maureen / Leave a comment

According to Australian actor Jack Thompson, having a convict in your ancestral family means you are a descendant of ‘Australian Royalty‘.

This is the story of my Australian Royalty heritage, so kick back, and join me on the journey.

My Ancestral Journey

Somewhere back in the 1990s, I waded into a very shallow pool of family history. I accompanied a friend to a church hall a couple of times to look at microfiche films because she was researching her family history. My friend knew what she was doing and what she was looking for, but I had no idea. Rather than sit and wait, I thought about family names I’d heard as a youngster, and started searching.

To my surprise, I found familiar names and places, and a tiny spark was lit, only to be snuffed out a few days later. In a phone call to my father, I excitedly told him about my family history discoveries.

Silence reigned supreme…

There was no response for what seemed like minutes, and then Dad shattered my hopes with:

“What do you want to go messing around with that stuff for?”

I quickly changed the subject, and given Dad’s reaction, I didn’t bother sharing the news with Mum.

My hopes may have been shattered, but with due respect to my parents, the torch of curiosity had been ignited. I figured there must be a few skeletons in our family history closet, and I wanted to find them.

Work, work, and study

I was working a full-time job and studying part-time, which meant there was very little time to search for family history secrets. The closet door stayed well and truly locked until 2011. With post-grad study completed and the demands of my full-time job having eased a little, I finally had time to think about my ancestors.

For the next five years I plodded around the Ancestry website, but didn’t find anything that even remotely resembled a family secret. However, I did find a family tree that had my maternal great-grandmother’s husband as someone I’d never heard of. I dismissed the fact as quickly as I’d found it. But that dismissal came back to bite me a few years later because that tree was right, mine was wrong. My great-grandfather wasn’t the person any of us thought he was.

Fast forward to 2016

Retirement kind of snuck (sneaked?) up on me. I hadn’t planned to retire for a few more years, but by 2016, the pace of my working life was unsustainable. My formal retirement age had passed me by, but I loved my job and thought I could keep going for a few more years. But I hated the excessive paperwork that had crept into the role, adding hours onto an already long day.

I resigned just before Easter.

Travel consumed me for a couple of years, then I settled down to do what most retirees do. I found a hobby. And those skeletons in the family closet started shaking in their boots, knowing the day was coming when the door would be flung open, and their secrets exposed.

Unless Dad was worried about the skeletons on my mum’s side, he had nothing to worry about, because if there are any deep, dark secrets from Dad’s side, I haven’t found them – yet.

And the skeletons on Mum’s side?

Perhaps they were secret-worthy back in their day, but through the lens of today’s society, there is nothing about the lives of my maternal ancestors that would even raise an eyebrow in today’s world.

Unless, of course, we talk about the skeletons whose flesh carried the scars of shackles. Australia’s colonisation, in 1788, left scars from more than just leg irons. Families were torn apart as convicts from England were transported to the new colony. And for the families that followed a convict to Australia, their lives were changed forever. And it was all in the name of building and populating the new colony, while easing the overcrowding in England’s gaols.

And those English gaols had become rather full, since the 1775 American War of Independence had stretched the friendship with England, and America no longer wanted to accommodate England’s leftover criminals.

From convicts, to ……

My mother’s family married into Australian Royalty, thereby giving us a claim to a convict. But it wasn’t just any old ordinary convict; our convict gained notoriety of the good kind for his service to education in the new colony.

Thomas Tabor1 (Taber) was sentenced to transportation to the new colony for life, for (supposedly) breaking into a shop in London. The Old Bailey account of the trial and the crime, hints at the arrest being a ‘set-up’. Even the judge questioned the motives, asking the arresting constable if he had known there was a reward for a break and enter conviction.

Q. Perhaps you know there is a reward given by the parish of Islington, for the convictions of those men? – A. Yes. (The Proceedings of the Old Bailey)

Sentenced

Thomas earned a one-way ticket to the colony for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thomas boarded the convict ship, Ganges, as a convict. Thomas’ wife, Frances Sarah (Medhurst) Taber and their three children arrived on the same ship, as free settlers in 1797. Thomas and Sarah had more children after their arrival, thereby contributing to an increase in the colony’s population.

AI-generated image

Building the new colony…

Although I haven’t found any formal supporting documents, it seems Thomas Taber was ‘acquired’ on his arrival by Reverend Richard Johnson, the chaplain from the First Fleet.

Thomas was appointed as a teacher in the school Johnson had started in Sydney. Thomas went on to teach in the Parramatta school for a few years, and then became the Master at the Sydney school until his retirement. Thomas Taber was one of the first teachers in the new colony. Thomas’ son, Thomas Taber junior, followed in his father’s footsteps, also teaching at the Sydney school.

Thomas Taber and his son, George, were granted land at Menangle, where George Tabor built an inn that still stands today (Menangle House).

Further marriages of Taber daughters widened our family’s connection with convicts. Thomas and Frances Taber’s daughter, Frances Sarah Taber, married2 James Proctor Harrex3 in 1807, James was a convict who had arrived on the same ship (Ganges) as the Taber family in 1797. Frances was seventeen, and James was forty years old when they married.

Milbah Charlotte Harrex4 was the daughter of James and Frances Sarah (Taber) Harrex, and therefore the granddaughter of Thomas Taber. Milbah married5 Nicholas Cavillon6 in 1829. Nicholas arrived in the colony when he was thirteen years old, having sailed from England as a free settler. Nicholas’ mother, Mary Cavillon, was on the same ship (Broxbornebury) as Nicholas, but seemingly under a different name. The name Isabella Phillips is noted by historians as a possible alias used by Mary Cavillon, at least before and during her passage to Australia.

Now might be a good time to mention that there are two sides to our ancestral notoriety: the convict side and the First Fleet side.

HMS Sirius was the flagship of the First Fleet that arrived in Sydney Cove in 1788, and on board the Sirius was Corporal Marine, John Gowen, my fourth great-grandfather.

John Gowen married7 a convict, Ordery Appleyard, in 1805. John died in Kiama, NSW, in 1837.

John and Ordery’s daughter, Ann, married8 George Taber, son of Thomas and Frances Sarah (Medhurst)Taber, in 1824.

Ann and George’s daughter, Emma Louisa Taber, married9 David Sneesby, my maternal great-great-grandfather, in 1865.

David and Emma Louisa Sneesby’s son, John George Sneesby, married10 Emily Beatrice Virtue11 in 1892.

John George and Emily Beatrice’s union produced my grandfather, Claude Ernest Claise Sneesby12, born in 1895.

Claude Sneesby married13 Ruby McDiarmid14. My mother, Betty Elaine Sneesby, was born in 1924. Colin Douglas Sneesby, Betty’s brother, was born in 1926. A sister, Hazel, was born in 1925 and died in 1929.

And just to be fair, family folklore suggests that my father’s maternal side may be closely linked to John (Red) Kelly, the father of the man in the iron suit we all know as Ned Kelly. John (Red) Kelly came to Australia as a convict. Apart from Red Kelly having been born in the same town in Tipperary, Ireland, as my paternal great-great-grandfather, John Spencer, nothing substantial has been found until recently. A little creative DNA search on Ancestry connected me to a few DNA matches who feature Red Kelly’s mother, Mary Cody, in their Family Trees.

One of John Spencer’s daughters reported that John Spencer15 had notified authorities of the familial relationship to the Kellys (cousins), but disclaimed any association with the notorious Kelly member. No documents have been found to substantiate the claim, but that, as they say, is a work in progress.

I’ve added relevant links to the information above so that future family historians can piece together the story of our convict ancestors. With ongoing advancements in technology, especially Artificial Intelligence (AI), hopefully, the gaps will be filled by future generations that will cement our family’s journey, and perhaps find more convict ancestors in our family tree.

And therein lies the story of my convict family history, and I’m proud to have descended from those who came to our shores under such stressful circumstances. They didn’t just survive, they thrived, and I’m very glad they did.

Footnotes:

  1. Variations in spelling of Tabor/Taber are noted in relevant documents. ↩︎
  2. There are two entries for this marriage: 721/1807V1807721 3A. HONNOR, JAMES; TABER, FRANCES S; CA and
    364/1807V1807364 4. HOSSIERE, JAMES; TABER, FRANCES S; CA – both appear to be the same couple, albeit variations of the surname of Harrax or Harrex ↩︎
  3. Variations in the spelling of Harrex are noted in relevant documents. ↩︎
  4. Milbah is an Aboriginal name, used by Richard Johnson as early as 1790, and then by Frances Taber and James Harrex. The name was subsequently used by future generations of Taber descendants. ↩︎
  5. 644/1829V1829644 13. CAVILLION, NICHOLAS – HARRAX, MILBAH CB ↩︎
  6. Variations in the spelling of Cavillon are noted in relevant documents. ↩︎
  7. There are two entries for this marriage: 640/1805V1805640 3A – GOWER, JOHN; APPLEFORD, ORDERLY; CA and 332/1805V1805332 4 – GOWER, JOHN; APPLEFORD, ORDERLY, CA – both appear to be the same couple, albeit variations of the surnames ↩︎
  8. The two entries represent the civil and church registrations: 369/1824V1824369 8 – TABER, GEORGE; GOWEN, ANN; CA
    3422/1824V18243422 3B – TABER, GEORGE; GOWEN, ANN; CA ↩︎
  9. 1861/1865 – SNEESBY, David; TABER, Emma Louisa; Camden ↩︎
  10. 5789/1892 – SNEESBY, JOHN; VIRTUE, BEATRICE E; NEWTOWN ↩︎
  11. Birth names are used predominantly in this text, despite some having used their middle name, such as Emily, known to family as Beatrice. ↩︎
  12. 32585/1895 – SNEESBY CLAUDE E C ↩︎
  13. 12575/1923 – SNEESBY, CLAUDE; MCDIARMID, RUBY; AUBURN ↩︎
  14. 31948/1901 – PLEASANCE RUBY; Father: DANIEL; Mother: ANNIE; Place: GRANVILLE – Ruby’s parents separated not long after she was born and she was raised as Ruby McDiarmid – ↩︎
  15. John Spencer migrated to South Australia from Tipperary, where he lived during the Kelly Gang era. ↩︎

102 Candles and a Bailey’s: Celebrating Betty Sneesby

/ Maureen / Leave a comment

Today, she would have celebrated her 102nd birthday.

I imagine she would have raised a Bailey’s to toast another milestone year, joked with family about ‘getting older’, and still outrun her great-grandchildren in a race across the park.

On the 10th January, 1924, Betty Sneesby was born. Perhaps being the firstborn to her parents, Ruby and Claude, made her somewhat special: a bit of a larrikin; a tomboy; a debutante. She was all of these in her younger days, but age didn’t diminish her willingness to have a go at anything, or to stand up for what was right.

Her father fought at Gallipoli in the Great War of 1914. As a trumpeter in the Lidcombe band, he was assigned the role of Bugler in battle. When the war ended, Claude became an accomplished boxer. Perhaps it was his way of releasing some of the horrors he had seen in the trenches on the other side of the world.

Claude taught his daughter the finer points of defending herself and anyone else who found themselves on the wrong side of local bullies.

Despite her fearless approach to life, Betty could just as easily don a ballgown and be the belle of the ball, or tap dance with a local dance troupe to entertain soldiers. During the war that was never meant to be, following the war that was “meant to end all wars1“, Betty was engaged to a young soldier, whom she married on the 29th January, 1944.

World War II

Tommy Berg was so handsome with his blonde hair and blue eyes, it was easy to see how the beautiful young Betty could fall in love with him. War may have separated them while Tommy fought with the Australian Army in New Guinea, but peace brought them together again when the guns were finally silenced.

Many years and five children later, Tommy succumbed to a terminal illness in March 1995. Betty continued on, just as she had when faced with any hardship throughout her life. Always the life of the party, and always with the love of her children, grandchildren, and eventually great-grandchildren at the centre of her universe.

And the tough years?

The early years were hard, but Betty never complained. She just got on with it.

Whether it was carting buckets of water to the chooks2 at the other end of the farm, or using a hessian bag soaked in water to beat flames threatening the house, she just did it.

After Tommy’s death, Betty stayed in their home on the northern side of Brisbane, where they had migrated to from Sydney years earlier. Surrounded by friends and family, Betty engaged in a rigorous social life, often dictated by wherever the like-minded seniors of the Crazy Gang were meeting for coffee that day.

On the 11th November3, 2015, Betty left this earthly life to join her family and loved ones on the other side. It was a sad day for those left to mourn her, but a fate we must all one day face.

Betty’s Legacy

Betty raised a son and four daughters. Each one benefited from watching a strong woman deal with whatever a hard life threw at her.

Never afraid to stand up for what was right.

Never afraid to work hard.

And she never complained.

So today, we, the children of Betty Sneesby and Tommy Berg, celebrate the life of a remarkable woman, our mother.

We honour Betty by trying to live up to her standards in our own lives.

We honour Betty by telling our children and grandchildren about how strong their grandmother and great-grandmother was.

We honour Betty by never forgetting the sacrifices she made for all of us.

So, today we raise a toast to what would have been Betty’s 102nd birthday. And we know she will be kicking up a storm on that other side of life, still the life of the party, and still outrunning everyone.

Happy Birthday, Mum.

  1. H G Wells ↩︎
  2. chickens ↩︎
  3. Rememberence Day, and two days before Tommy’s birthday ↩︎

Stepping Stones To Family History

/ Maureen / Leave a comment

On a recent trip to Perth, Western Australia, I was fascinated by the sequence of dates immortalised on the footpaths within the Central Business District, so I started paying more attention.

The first date I photographed was my birth year (no, not the ones featured below), followed by the birth years of significant others in my life. I remember wondering if there was likely to be any relevance between the year and the name on the stone blocks, so I reached out to Google.

Ironically, the name on the paver of my birth year was F. E. Chamberlain, a union delegate who became the State Secretary of the Labor Party in Western Australia. I was flabbergasted: I was active in the Teachers Union throughout my career, and joined the Labor Party for a rather short-lived involvement in politics in the nineties. Falling asleep in a meeting after a long day in the classroom dampened my enthusiasm somewhat, and probably didn’t do much for the guest speaker’s confidence. But there it was – F E Chamberlain: union delegate and politician. I took that as a connection.

Since this site is my Family History Vault, I reached for the photo of my father’s birth year: 1922.

Brick paving block with the inscription 1922, Thomas Ahern, Retailer

The name and occupation on the paver is Thomas Ahern, Retailer. Dad did his share of retailing over the years as an insurance and car salesman when he wasn’t driving taxis, and he certainly kept a few clothing retailers in business. Dad’s taste in clothes and shoes leaned towards extravagant. Not the kind of extravagance of the wealthy, just the ordinary variety of a large family living within a tight budget.

There was an immediate connection between Dad and Thomas Ahern in their Christian names. Dad was christened Alfred Thomas Berg, but was known to everyone as Tom or Tommy. As I read through the account of Thomas Ahern’s life, I struggled to move on from the first few paragraphs; the account of his life before he arrived on Australian shores.

Thomas Ahern was born in Ireland, as were my father’s maternal ancestors. Thomas Ahern’s mother was Mary McGrath, and two of the places Thomas found employment were Kilkenny and Tipperary. Dad’s Irish great-grandparents, John Spencer and Catherine Grainger, were from Tipperary, and another great-grandmother, Catherine McGrath, was from Kilkenny.

The next significant block is 1924, the year of my mother’s birth.

Brick paving block with the inscription 1924, Phillip Collier, Premier.

Phillip Collier was born at Woodstock near Melbourne on 21 April 1873 and became Premier of Western Australia in 1924, the year my mother was born. Mum didn’t share Collier’s passion for politics, but she was just as determined to speak up for what was right and support anyone who needed help, albeit without the wages afforded to politicians. The name Collier is linked to our closest neighbours in the 1960s – brothers Nick and Bill Collier, although I doubt they were any relation to the illustrious Labor leader and Perth Premier Phillip Collier.

It seems even a long-overdue trip to Perth can become a genealogical stepping stone. Not because of a direct link to my family research, but because a few photos taken along the way can relate, even indirectly, to someone in my family tree. I only searched for the birth years of my closest relatives, but a more thorough investigation may have unearthed more interesting facts. .

I did spend a few hours in the State Library looking for clues to my Swedish Grandfather’s time in Kalgoorlie in the early 1900s, but I’m still no closer to any facts, so my search continues.

Translation

/ Maureen / Leave a comment

Oh, how much easier my life would be if my grandfather hadn’t left Sweden to make his home in Australia. If I’d been born in Sweden I would probably be at least bilingual, but sadly, I only speak English. That’s assuming I would have been born at all. I share my grandfather’s Swedish DNA, but also that of my Australian-born grandmother, who met and fell in love with my handsome Swedish grandfather and bore his ten children. If Grandfather had married a Swedish girl, in Sweden, would I have materialised into a Swedish version of who I am today?

But, Grandfather didn’t marry a Swedish girl, and he didn’t stay in Sweden. So here I am, a mere monolingual Aussie, trying desperately to translate the Swedish documents that tell of Grandfather’s other life, and therefore, the lives of my Swedish ancestors.

Being born in 1950 gives me a bit of an edge on the translation journey. My (then) teenaged children embraced technology in the eighties and shoved me head-first into the world of computers, so I am no stranger to the Internet and search engines in today’s modern world. And with the beauty of the Internet comes a diverse range of apps and websites that can solve a couple of monolingual problems.

  1. Learning a second language can be undertaken in the comfort of your own home via any number of apps.
    • Duolingo is just one of the apps available that is super-affordable, and a fantastic method of learning Swedish. Admittedly, I’m only up to the part where I could ask for a drink of water in Sweden, but I’m working on it.
  2. Most Swedish archival websites provide a handy little tab at the top that says ‘English‘., so I can select the English version of the page.
    • But, there are a lot of words on most documents that escape the translation parameters and therefore are stuck in Swedish.
  3. There are hundreds (possibly thousands) of websites that offer translation from one language to another.
    • This is my preferred method for expediency in translating documents since none of the Swedish documents I’ve found so far mention ‘drink of water’.
    • I type the Swedish word into the translator, and it gives me the English equivalent.
  4. A Swedish keyboard is available as an alternative when entering Swedish text.
    • Don’t ask me how I found it because I was born in 1950, and just remembering what I had for breakfast a few hours after the event is a mammoth challenge, so I can’t remember how or where I found the keyboard.
    • A Google search should help you locate the alternate keyboard, which can be easily accessed alongside the good old English keyboard used for everything else.
    • I accidentally found an easy way to toggle the Swedish keyboard (there’s a lot to be said for being a bit slow) on my trusty Mac laptop:
      • when typing a letter that needs a Swedish accent, like ö, I hold down the letter o until a little box pops up, giving the choice of accents to use.

I imagine the alternate keyboard idea works for other languages as well.

If future generations are reading this post they will no doubt chuckle at how quaint this all is. I imagine years from 2023 you are all microchipped at birth, right? There’ll be no need to search for DNA matches and old documents because everything you think, say or do will be embedded on the microchip the instant you think, say or do it, right? Heck, perhaps I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, but you get the picture, I’m sure.

So, when it comes to translation I reckon I’ve got a pretty good handle on it, albeit, cumbersome handle, back here in March 2023 (we haven’t been microchipped yet – that service is only available to our domesticated pets, oh, and some endangered wildlife). So, until we are microchipped I’ll continue to:

  • learn Swedish
  • select the ‘English’ tab on Swedish websites
  • seek out an online translation service website

And if all else fails, I’ll phone a Swedish neighbour, but I’ve avoided that step because most of my research is done way outside normal waking hours, as is the case with most family historians I suspect, so my translation needs will continue to be met online.