The story so far…
1860: The Sweeny family, at this stage numbering
fourteen children, has suffered the shame of their father’s imprisonment and
the loss of their once carefree life.
Reliant now on the charity of others, Anna with 8 of her children, four of them
under the age of 6 years and one still in swaddling clothes and barely crawling,
is about to endure the 3 month voyage from England to New Zealand on board the sailing
ship Avalanche. Husband Alfred with
16 year old Bertha and 11 year old Ethelbert sailed to Auckland some months
earlier with the intention of securing free land grants from the New Zealand
government.
Certainly
the advertisement above similar to many published in English newspapers in the
1850’s helped set Alfred’s mind thinking about ways to recoup his lost fortune…
Anna herself may have seen published the image below of Auckland in London’s Illustrated News only a few
years earlier and been slightly reassured that this land at the ends of the
earth had at least a modicum of civilisation.
In either case both would be sadly
disappointed. Alfred’s delusions of a grand life in this small island country
as a gentleman farmer or property owner will be dashed when he realises the
country wants only those ready and willing to labour under difficult
conditions. There will be no treasure at
the end of this rainbow.
What follows now in this next
instalment is husband Alfred’s great folly as he uproots his entire family on a
fruitless quest to attain riches.
*
A FORCED AFFINITY WITH THE SEA
We have no personal diaries
from any of the Sweeny children, much less their mother, detailing the lengthy
and ultimately pointless sea voyages they endured in the first half of 1860:
Nothing at all to indicate either an abhorrence or even a growing affinity with
life on the ocean wave.
But I did find diary entries
and newspaper articles that others had written about their experiences on the same
voyages our Sweeny’s sailed, and even an account of the vessel Anna luckily
avoided. Both of their sailing ships of
choice faced rough weather, but Alfred’s more so than Anna’s.
*
THE JURA
Aboard the 792 ton Jura, Alfred, 16 year old Bertha and 11
year old Ethelbert departed England on October 3 1859. With them on board were
87 passengers including several small children and assorted cargo. The three travelled in the crowded between
decks steerage section, their sleeping arrangements basic wooden double bunks open
to view amidst the clutter of tables and benches and belongings; bulkhead divisions
made only to separate the sexes travelling alone.
This descent into a
claustrophobic hell must have been an eye opener for Alfred and a culture shock
for the Sweeny children. It would be
their home for the next 3 months.
Seven days into the voyage the
vessel, clearly not intended for passenger comfort, encountered fierce storms
with passenger decks awash with sea water and the vessel being crazily tossed
about by mountainous waves.
1850’s: An image of similar immigrants
travelling steerage to NZ
|
A fellow passenger Frederick
Sidwell’s misspelt description of a stormy day at sea paints the picture only
too well … ‘Had a ver ruf day the sea
running mountains high, the ship realing to and frow like a drunkin man, chists
upsetting. Watter cans pots and pans tumbeling in all directions. As well some of the passengers were seek…’
He went on to describe the pig sties on deck
damaged and split asunder in the stormy conditions with pigs running amok throughout
the ship. The Sidwells, husband, wife
and six children, paid £155 for the privilege of a second class cabin; Alfred
Sweeny and his two children endured the voyage in the cramped conditions of bargain
price steerage. Both families would have
supplied their own bedding; the shipping company provided food rations of meat,
flour, rice, barley, tea, coffee, sugar, potatoes, lime juice and water but
passengers were responsible for cooking their own meals.
A cow was also listed on board but
survived and was off loaded in Auckland;
not so a consignment of caged song birds, thrushes, linnets and
pheasants which were all swept away to a watery grave save for one lone
partridge that arrived safely in Auckland on January 15th 1860. The journey had taken 104 damp, stomach
churning days, almost 4 months to sail from Liverpool to New Zealand.
I wonder how Bertha and
Ethelbert felt as the ship heaved and bucked and fellow passengers in steerage
moaned and groaned, their surroundings mired in disorder and mess; did they
wish themselves elsewhere…anywhere but where they were?
*
THE AVALANCHE
Meanwhile some few months’
later back in Sussex Anna was to have taken passage on another ship, the Frenchman leaving from London a month or
so before the vessel she eventually boarded, the Avalanche; but she was not yet ready to depart. Perhaps the public subscription to enable her
passage had not reached sufficient amount, or she felt baby Madeline May too
young at that time; in any case their departure was deferred until the later
date of February 2nd when 39 year old Anna and her eight remaining children,
Alice, Adeline, Geraldine, Frank, Camilla, Ernest, Evelyn and Madeline
travelled to London to board the 763 ton Avalanche
under the command of Captain Stott.
One has to wonder if Ann was
clairvoyant in bypassing passage on the Frenchman: On the
ill-fated vessel’s arrival in Auckland on March 22nd 1860 a hearing was convened in the
Resident Magistrates Court regarding unsanitary conditions aboard the barque
‘Frenchman’ at ‘present in quarantine’.
Evidence was given: “The court finds that the ship did not
call in at any port on the voyage; it sailed with no Bill of Health and that a
fortnight after leaving England small pox broke out amongst the second class
passengers incurring several deaths. The
Surgeon in reply states that the whole of the bedding and clothes of the
infected persons had been thrown overboard, the ship fumigated and disinfected,
87 persons aboard had been duly vaccinated,
and that he was of the opinion that no danger was now to be apprehended.”
Anna and her eight children
were very lucky indeed.
In comparison the ship they
finally boarded, the Avalanche took
just 96 days to reach Auckland, 8 days less than the Jura: According to the ship’s Captain apart from a few days
experiencing gale force winds with the loss of the mizzen topsail, the health
of all on board had been good with no deaths and 2 births swelling the sum
total of her passenger list.
Just four weeks before the
ships arrival in Auckland one of those babies was born to Joseph and Sarah
Sturge, Joseph a former Quaker disowned for marrying out of his church; they
named the infant Arthur James Avalanche
Sturge.
The Sweeny brood also sailed in
2nd Cabin accommodation, a step up from Steerage though in no way as
comfortable or as private as a first class salon.
The Avalanche |
STEPPING ASHORE IN A NEW LAND
Alfred and the two children,
Bertha and Ethelbert must have welcomed their first steps on dry land with a
heartfelt prayer; The Auckland they now view is perhaps larger than they
expected but with none of the fine two and three story buildings back home that
line the seaside promenade of Worthing.
Instead they find an enormous
number of small wooden houses perched on surrounding hills. They search for and find Auckland’s
Mechanic’s Institute, just across from the Wesleyan Mission, which all three
promptly join on the 19th January just three days after
arrival. The Institute, one of thousands
popping up in towns throughout the world gives citizens access to local
information, a notice board, a library and reading room and encourages an
interest in science and study. (Some 20 years later Geraldine Sweeny McGowan
will similarly utilise and enjoy Fiji’s Mechanic’s Institute in Levuka.)
Large central building is Auckland’s Wesleyan Mission,
to its right the Mechanics Institute: Sir
George Grey Special Collection.
|
With Anna expected to embark a
few weeks later from London Alfred set about finding accommodation and
work. From a letter Anna later sent home
and was published in the West Sussex Gazette we know… ‘Rentals are very dear, we pay ten shillings per week for a two roomed
house with little furniture and primitive amenities’.
At last the family is reunited,
but the occasion is marred by Alfred’s inability to find work. Time and again
he finds himself one of many applying for the one position. He has journalistic
ambitions and applies for work with a local newspaper but is unsuccessful.
Anna and the children have
barely time to find their land legs after the long voyage from London before
their father suddenly decides they will all return to England...immediately.
Post haste!
*
A CURIOUS TIME FRAME
To fully appreciate the folly
of this entire short excursion to the ends of the earth it’s best to see for
yourself the time frame surrounding their arrivals and departure.
January 18th 1860 Alfred with Bertha and Ethelbert
arrive NZ.
May 7th 1860 Anna and her brood of eight
youngsters arrive.
May 31st 1860 Phoenix
family’s due departure for England.
*
The decision to return to
England is made in haste. The Phoenix
has advertised a departure date of May 31.
That date is later changed due to ‘inclement
weather’ and perhaps Alfred has made his decision in light of the later
advertisement advising this, while at the same time offering a reduced rate for
family’s traveling in steerage. The
departure date will change a number of times, the Phoenix finally departing on
July 2nd.
But one wonders what has really
precipitated the Sweeny’s sudden departure.
True, in the months before Anna
arrived Alfred had plenty of time to search for work and was obviously
unsuccessful, but was this the only reason he suddenly seeks passage home just
24 days after his wife’s arrival?
In letters written to the West
Sussex Gazette he deplores the scarcity of work, mentioning one position he
applied for had attracted over 50 applicants.
He puts Bertha, and later Alice, to work in a menial job and the money they
bring home helps put food on the table.
I suspect even Ethelbert aged 11, or by now possibly 12 years old is
similarly employed. Their father claims to have trudged many miles through the
countryside seeking work.
It seems fairly clear that
Alfred’s flight to New Zealand was excessively coloured by the promise of free
land. He has no actual trade
skills. On his immigration papers he had
described himself as a librarian and while resident in Auckland had written a
pompous letter to the local paper deriding complaining migrants who have been
unable to find work. The letter, published on the 7th May, includes
the following paragraph:-
“(from those on board the Jura)…there are eleven persons still wanting
employment…and only a month has yet elapsed since they set foot in New
Zealand. This is not so much amiss. … In
most instances of failure to obtain employment in the colony is denounced as a
great trap for the unwary, the complaining parties having neither the justice,
the reason nor the ability to explain that failure most often arises from their
want of patience, prudence or eligibility as emigrants or from want of a proper
amount of pecuniary means on arrival or from too many choosing to come out at
once and thus damaging and destroying one another’s chances of success… signed A.Sweeny”
Within a month though, Alfred has himself become one of the ‘complaining few’, he himself now
lacking the patience, prudence and sufficient pecuniary means to ensure
survival.
*
At the same time though he
can’t help but hear the town gossip and read in Auckland papers about the
Taranaki Maori uprising; understandably the original inhabitants are mightily
upset at having their land usurped. But then
with growing alarm Alfred soon becomes aware of the New Zealand Militia Act of
1858 which gives powers to enlist civilians who had resided in the colony for
six months. Already five months have
passed since he set foot on New Zealand soil.
Soon, very soon he could be legally deemed eligible for conscription.
The Sweeny’s were clearly
running short of money and I doubt they would find the charity of England’s
work houses in the new colony of New Zealand; but that wasn’t Alfred’s primary
concern. As well as being totally unsuited to farming or labouring I’m quite sure
he was not at all keen to go to war.
*
The sudden decision to return
to England is obviously a shock for Anna.
She has in this short interim managed to pen a letter home to the Sussex
newspaper describing conditions in the colony.
Would she have gone to this trouble had she been aware her stay would be
so short? I doubt it. The letter was clearly meant to be the first in a series
of such informative missals on the pitfalls or otherwise of living in New
Zealand. The West Sussex Gazette had after all played a pivotal part in the
public subscription to raise funds for the family’s passage to the colony.
But the decision has been made:
She has no choice now other than to begin preparing her young family for yet
another long and harrowing sea voyage.
At this stage I can only put
myself in Anna’s place; Confined for
nearly 3 months on board ship with eight children ranging in age from 15 years
to a babe in arms; on arrival thrust into a small and inadequate dwelling
totally unsuitable for such a large family; faced with a husband who exudes
doom and gloom; and then, with barely enough time to recover from the long sea
voyage suddenly faced with yet another upheaval and a further 3 months battling
the elements.
*
THE PHOENIX
Fully rigged sailing vessels of
the 1800’s rarely kept to a strict schedule.
Powered by the wind and at the mercy of the tides and shifting sands
their times of arrival and departure could never be accurately forecast.
In the case of the Phoenix for its return voyage to
Liverpool the delays stretched into months.
As early as February 1860 the Daily Southern Cross reported in its
shipping section advice that ‘Captain
Brown of the White Star Line vessel Phoenix would proceed in about a fortnight
to Wellington with the balance of her cargo and from there to Hokianga to load
timber and will return to Auckland to fill up, and receive passengers for
Liverpool direct’.
When finally on July 2nd
the vessel departed from Auckland with her complement of passengers it was
reported that the “Phoenix for Liverpool
after an ineffectual attempt to round the North Head on Sunday came back to her
anchorage but finally succeeded in making a start yesterday afternoon.”
The same newspaper report on
the ships departure mentioned… ‘…the
White Star Line which has brought so many immigrants to New Zealand is already
engaged in carrying them back to the old country…’ an immediate reference
perhaps to the Sweeny’s, but at the same time indicating a growing pattern of
disgruntled immigrants.
The Phoenix, heavily loaded
with its cargo of timber, carried a relatively small number of passengers,
seventy odd, and amongst them was John William Hodkinson who had the foresight
to record the journey home in his diary.
His description of the voyage paints a vivid picture of severe storms, a
leaking vessel and the urgent necessity to jettison cargo overboard, of a
drunken captain, threats of mutiny by the crew and even the presence of a
stowaway.
Curiously Alfred on his return
to Worthing will also pen a description of the voyage to the West Sussex
Gazette in which he describes the untiring efforts of the crew to stem the
effects of a leak in the hull; He describes the Captain as polite and courteous
and ever conscious of the passengers comfort, even organising parties and
theatrical events for their entertainment.
Following the prevailing winds
the voyage progresses from the waters of the Pacific Ocean far south to the ice
of the Great Southern Ocean before rounding the dangerous seas at the tip of
South America and entering the Atlantic for the final long push north to
England.
Hodkinson writes of the miseries of rounding
the infamous Horn… “We have often heard
of the horrors of Cape Horn and it has quite realised our expectations…” His
diary describes the quarrelsome
passengers, inadequate provisions, the wetness in the cabins and on deck, the
extreme cold and the inability to keep warm except in bed. Later in the warmer climate he wrote of the vermin that became rife due to the lack of
cleanliness of some of the passengers.
Whichever version rings true, for
Anna, Alfred and her ten children confined in the stark reality of steerage,
faced with the lack of privacy for even the most basic of functions and
sanitation the long days and nights, the constant roll of the ship, must have
seemed like a living hell… especially for Anna who by now realises she is
pregnant with their 15th child.
*
WRECKED IN THE MERSEY
The
cry of Land ahoy when the Phoenix
neared Liverpool signalled the end of the one hundred days journey from
Auckland. In his diary William Hodkinson
describes their harrowing arrival…
Oct. 9 Off
Dunganon say 200 miles
Oct. 10. Off Rock light and landing
At easy seeing distance we have scarcely time to swallow our breakfast for fear of missing some important object. There is no lack of Ships of all sizes from the yachts to the 3 deckers sailing in every direction. 12 noon, Off Dungannon 3 pm we can see Taskes Island, where the famous Dasher Lighthouse stands on. The wind is from the north rather against us… we hope for a change or else no Liverpool for us to morrow…
Oct. 10. Off Rock light and landing
At easy seeing distance we have scarcely time to swallow our breakfast for fear of missing some important object. There is no lack of Ships of all sizes from the yachts to the 3 deckers sailing in every direction. 12 noon, Off Dungannon 3 pm we can see Taskes Island, where the famous Dasher Lighthouse stands on. The wind is from the north rather against us… we hope for a change or else no Liverpool for us to morrow…
Oct. 10th. We arose early & got breakfast over so that we
could look about us but the weather was not very favourable for seeing fast,
for the drizzly rain had come again & the wind not being fair we were
beating up the channel that is tacking, about noon were near Holyhead
lighthouse, sometimes we could not see it when more than a mile distant on
account of the rain, after dinner we took on board Pilot Mr ___ but I rather
think he is not quite sober but perhaps he knows his business… all afternoon we
are sailing along the Welsh coast with a strong wind more fair on account of our
course being more east.
Ships are
now as plentiful as blackberries & steam tugs too, they wanted £20 for
taking us into Liverpool but as we have got such a good wind the captain would
not engage them. Then about 5 pm we entered the mouth of the Mersey and we
could see the lights of the core of docks, the Pilot thought we had but anchor
for the night and we let go the patent anchor opposite the Battery.
The gale
blew us on to the bank & as the wind, a gale and the sea was high, we
dragged our anchors, the tide being at the ebb. We soon touched the bottom with
a heavy thuds and then she keeled on her side.
The sailor
had got beach but happily the wind abated or the ship would soon have gone to
pieces. Some of the passengers asked the 1st or 2nd mate where we were going
and he said we were going to the devil. It was a no fair game to sail all way
from New Zealand & then be wrecked in the Mersey.
The Captain
wanted to signal for a tug to take the passengers to port but the sailors would
not hear of it. They hailed a tug… for all hands we got a good sized piece of
pork to wash & when roasted we did not feel inclined for eating, we stayed
up all night approaching but it was very uncomfortable owing to vessel heeling
on her side but as soon as this tide permitted on the morning we got a tug
which brought us opposite the landing stage and took us passengers with
children.
*
The Sweeny’s arrival in
Liverpool on October 10th is a dismal affair. Anna pregnant and fearful for
their future, she and the children still shaken by their brush with disaster
are numb with shock: They have no one to greet them and no idea how they would
manage to find shelter.
What little money Alfred has
will not go far. He leaves Ann and the children to the hopefully charitable mercy
of the Liverpool Guardians and takes the train to Worthing hoping perhaps to
get help from his mother, the aged Ann Sweeny.
But having lost all her possessions and any standing she once had in the
community his mother is now one of three lodgers in their seventies living in a
tradesmen’s cottage and in any case reliant on parish charity.
In the depths of a cruel
wintery December Alfred is called before the Broadwater Guardians in Sussex: Where once he stood in authority he now
cringes in despair. The Guardians have
received a request from their Liverpool counterparts seeking the sum of
fourteen shillings a week relief for Mrs Anna Sweeny and her family until she
or her husband could obtain work. The situation is decidedly grim.
Back in Liverpool Anna loses
the practical support of two of her eldest children, 15 year old Bertha takes
up a governess position in Usk, and on November 27th the Sweeny’s
eldest daughter Alice Kate, aged 16 marries an American mariner Alfred
West. This will be the first of three
such unions for the bride. (In truth Anna
may have welcomed two less mouths to feed.)
Weeks and months pass with husband and wife
living apart, Anna reliant on charity, until eventually the Liverpool Guardians
refuse to give her any further help and she is sent money to return to Worthing
where she gives birth to Reginald Arthur Sweeny on March 26th 1861.
She dreads the confrontations
and recriminations ahead, the begging for charity, the meeting with former
friends and neighbours; the question marks surrounding the public subscription,
the failed odyssey to New Zealand.
***
NEXT AND FINAL INSTALMENT: If you think Ann Sweeny’s life story
couldn’t get any worse, you are very mistaken. The family will again be forced
to leave Worthing, this time to Wales.
Ahead looms death, despair, for Alfred imprisonment yet again, and the eventual
dispersal of their children to the far corners of the globe.
For Anna the happy days of her
youth are distant memories; the laughing carefree ‘Miss Fish’ dancing the night away at the Tradesmen’s Ball now unrecognizable.
*
Robyn Mortimer ©2014
Again my gratitude to and
admiration for fellow family historian Peter Fleming, like me a Sweeny
descendent and historical sleuth.
***
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love hearing from you, your comments good, bad or indifferent are always welcome..your anonymity will be respected. But remember if you want me to reply you will need to supply a contact email address otherwise I will never know who you are.