Not forgotten

I have previously written of my 3GGF William "George" Beck, who sailed the seas from England to Tasmania to California, all for family. As a young man, he accompanied his parents (Becks) and aunts and uncles (Knights and Webbs) to Van Dieman's Land; as a young father, he packed up his family to try their fortune in California in the Gold Rush.

But the family with three children that boarded the Barque Spartan in 1850 headed to California was not complete. Yes, they had already buried three children (including twin boys that did not survive), but George's 12 year old daughter Sarah from his first marriage--who had lost her mother while George was at sea--is not on the passenger manifest. 

And it does not appear to be an oversight by the purser: there is no record of Sarah in any records once they arrive. In the years after their arrival, the family expands by two more daughters. George makes a good living selling real estate and building houses for miners returning from the mother lode with pockets full of placer gold. He lives a prosperous life, dying at the age of 69, with a sizeable portfolio of real estate and a passel of grandchildren. He outlived his second wife by 25 years.

So whatever happened to Sarah? When I asked my mother, she said she had always heard that she died along with her mother, or perhaps she came to California at a later date. Great Aunt Marjorie assumed she had died, since it was inconceivable to her that a parent would abandon a child.

However, digging through the Tasmanian archives (a researcher's dream: clearly scanned, indexed, and online), Launceston reveals itself as a very small town: in the 1843 census, there is an unidentified young girl of Sarah's age living at Carr Villa, her great uncle John Knight's estate. In 1851, the census names her as living with her grandmother Beck. But we hit pay dirt in the 1856 Assessment Book for Launceston, where she is not only living with her grandmother, but her aunt and uncle Webb have also moved in. Also in the list of residents is Thomas Hughes, her new husband. She is 18 and pregnant with the first of 12 children. 

When George died in California in 1882, his will appointed his youngest daughter Lizzie as administratix. His will splits the estate evenly between his four surviving children, identified by name. But the 1885 probate settlement tells another story: Lizzie and her siblings make sure that their half-sister Sarah Hughes finally gets her due: she receives 1/5 of the estate, with the remainder going to her unmarried half-sister Grace. 

The father and his four children circa 1859:
Mary, Tom, Lizzie (Elizabeth), William George, and Grace

Australian royalty

If you haven't already, you'll want to read the story of the Launceston Library.  

Picking up where I left off: I had three siblings with land grants in Launceston, Tasmania (then called Van Dieman's Land). All of them were free persons--no convicts. My great aunt Marjorie had been adamant that there were no convicts to sully our name or reputation. But I couldn't help but wonder why an entire family that had been in the same village for generations would uproot to an unknown and distant land--reachable only by a two to five-month sea voyage that was in itself an ordeal.

I learned that the English government was offering a bounty to young men with a trade, which William "George" Beck was. He was  a carpenter, and I can remember seeing the chest he made in my great aunt's house. But that didn't explain why his parents and four of his aunts and uncles made the same trip. 

Having established that we had three siblings and their spouses thanks to my distant cousin just across the Canadian border, I learned from this same gentlemen that their father, Samuel Knight, had been the subject of a trial at the old Bailey on April 25, 1814. 

The transcript from the Old Bailey trial

Samuel, a cloth salesman, had moved his family to London in hopes to improve their economic situation, but that apparently had not worked out, and on an April evening, he and his brother and a couple of cronies took a crow bar to a warehouse door and stole  some furs. Both Samuel and his brother James were sentenced to death. Both of them had their sentences commuted to transportation.

On August 7, 1815, James and Samuel were transported to Port Jackson, Sydney in Australia aboard the Baring, along with 300 other convicts. In 1830, Samuel completed his sentence, and his son John, who had moved to Launceston, applied for a land grant for his father and brothers-in-law. In 1822, two things happened: James died, and Samuel earned a ticket of leave. Samuel then requested a transfer to Van Dieman's Land. By 1829, he had a conditional pardon, though his commuted sentence meant that he could never return to England. 

So it appears that Samuel, a convict, is most certainly the reason that the three siblings came to Launceston: the timing permitted petitions for Samuel's transfer and land grants for the siblings, all taken care of by his son John. 

In an interesting footnote, George Beck's first Daughter, Sarah, was left behind with his parents and aunties when he left for California. She ended up marrying an Irish man who had also received a death sentence--for stealing a gentleman's handkerchief--commuted to transportation: during his sea journey to Launceston, the transportation system was dismantled, and he found himself a free man upon arrival (except for the option of returning to Dublin). Thomas Hughes was a watchmaker, and provided well for his wife and 12 children. There are still many Hughes in Tasmania who can trace their roots to this couple.

Launceston Library

I remember asking my mother if our family had come west during the gold rush (we had probably just learned about it in school). Not exactly, she said, part of our family did come to California for the gold rush, but they had come east--from Australia. 

The ancestor in question was a gruff man by the name of William George Beck (he went by George). My mother told me that he emigrated to Launceston, Tasmania from England with his parents, but that she and her aunt could find nothing more—only they were sure he was not a convict. 

When my mother passed away, I inherited boxes of genealogical research, several in my great aunt Marjorie’s loopy but legible handwriting. Confirming her research, I learned that George’s father, Thomas and his wife did indeed arrive in Tasmania in 1831–quite early in the history of European settlement in the area. George was not on the passenger manifest, as he was a ship’s carpenter, though he remain based in Launceston for many years.

What struck me, as I worked my way through the handwritten notes, and then plunged into Trove—the aptly named Tasmanian online site with newspaper archives and civil records, was that they a) all worked multiple jobs and b) the lives of the Beck family was intertwined with folks by the name of Webb and Knight. Thomas, the Beck patriarch, ran a pub and a bakery (where he also sold patent medicine pedaled by busybody Mr. Knight, who also ran the local newspaper, and later a finishing school for young ladies); Mrs. Beck (Hannah) sold bonnets and ribbons "just arrived from England" with a Mrs. Webb (Sarah)—who also happened to arrive in Tasmania on the same boat--with her husband and child. When children were baptized or marriages solemnized, Webbs and Becks were both in attendance, and at least one marriage was celebrated at Mr. Knight’s Carr Villa, which apparently had been built by George Beck himself. 

Having grown up in a small town, I could see how paths would cross often, but these lives were more tightly woven than normal for friendships. There had to be more.

Now, my darling husband just happened to have relatives in New Zealand, which provided the perfect opportunity to visit down under—and as long as we were in the neighborhood, Tasmania was a relatively short jaunt.

Which was how I found myself in the Launceston library one December, poring over an immense hand drawn map of the town, with each parcel neatly labeled with the name of the grantee. And there, right next to each other were three parcels: J. Knight, J. Webb, and T. Beck. 

Land grants - more than neighbors!

What's more, from them I learned of a small tome in the Hobart library just down the road, self-published by a fellow with the Knight surname. Copies were made, emails flew, and I learned two things: firstly, the author himself lived just over the border from me in Canada, and secondly, Mrs. Beck, Mrs. Webb, and Mr. Knight were siblings. 

Of course, the reason they all went to Australia in the first place is a post for a later date.