Heading for Melbourne, Australia 1852 – 1853
Family history often begins with birth, marriage and death records, but those records rarely reveal how our ancestors actually lived. For many Australians researching pioneering families, the voyage from Britain to Australia remains one of the least documented parts of the story. Passenger lists usually record only names, ages and occupations; ships’ logs focus on navigation and official business; and newspapers tended to report on notable passengers or the vessels themselves rather than the experiences of ordinary emigrants.
The sources examined here are therefore exceptional. By combining traditional genealogical research with two contemporary records, a detailed description of the Ben Nevis published in The Illustrated London News and the surviving diary of Thomas Tompson Bates, who was serving as a crew member aboard the vessel, it is possible to reconstruct the voyage in unusual detail. Together, these records illuminate both the journey itself and the lives of those who undertook it.
Their story begins in Liverpool in September 1852 and follows a voyage that linked a young farming couple from Yorkshire with a young man from Birmingham aboard one of the finest emigrant clippers of its day.
The Ben Nevis: A Modern Emigrant Clipper
The vessel that carried the Webster family to Australia was no ordinary emigrant ship. In its edition of 4 September 1852, The Illustrated London News described the Ben Nevis as a “noble vessel” and one of the finest clipper packets then in service. The article followed an inspection by Government Emigration Officers, making its observations especially relevant to prospective emigrant passengers.
Built at St John in 1852, the Ben Nevis was registered at 1,420 tons and reported to have a burden capacity of 3,000 tons. Owned by Messrs Pilkington and Wilson of Liverpool, part of the White Star Line, the vessel deliberately carried fewer passengers than her maximum capacity in order to provide greater comfort during the long passage. Measuring 180 feet in length with a beam of 38½ feet, she was considered a substantial and modern ship for her time.
Contemporary descriptions allow the vessel to be vividly imagined. The newspaper described her as “frigate-like in appearance”, with a figurehead depicting a Highlander in full costume and the Caledonian Arms decorating her stern. It also praised features intended to improve passenger comfort, including stained-glass windows in the ship’s hotel or bar, bathrooms adjoining the after saloon, and a force pump capable of supplying fresh water or serving as a fire engine if required.
For emigrants facing a voyage of more than three months, health and comfort were paramount concerns. The Illustrated London News therefore highlighted the generous seven-foot height between decks together with the quality of the vessel’s lighting and ventilation. These features distinguished the Ben Nevis from many emigrant ships of the period and helped establish her reputation as one of the finest vessels engaged in the Australian trade.
It was aboard this highly regarded clipper that Richard and Mary Webster, together with Thomas Tompson Bates and hundreds of other emigrants, embarked upon the journey that would forever change their lives.
The Passengers
Among those who boarded the Ben Nevis were two individuals whose stories intersect in a unique way. The Webster family can be reconstructed through official genealogical records, while the diary kept by Thomas Tompson Bates provides an almost daily account of the voyage they shared. Together, these sources create an unusually complete picture of nineteenth-century emigration.
Richard Webster was twenty years old when he boarded the Ben Nevis. A farmer from Pickhill in Yorkshire, he appeared on the passenger list as Passenger Number 952. He was the son of Robert Webster and Elizabeth Daniel and, like many young agricultural workers of the period, appears to have seen greater opportunity in the expanding Australian colonies than in rural England.
Travelling with Richard was his wife, Mary Routledge, aged twenty-two. Also from Pickhill, Mary had married Richard at Cowesby, Yorkshire, on 10 July 1852, only two months before they sailed for Australia. She shared Passenger Number 952 with her husband. Mary was the daughter of John Routledge, the schoolmaster of Pickhill, and his second wife, Mary Proctor.
Richard and Mary represented one of many newly married farming couples who left England during the early years of the Victorian gold rush. Although they were not alone in seeking new opportunities, every emigrant carried with them individual hopes, ambitions and uncertainties. Their voyage to Australia marked the beginning of an entirely new chapter in the history of the Webster family.
A second and equally important figure on board was Thomas Tompson Bates, universally referred to throughout his diary as T. T. Bates. Thomas was the son of Richard Bates, an innkeeper in Birmingham and Horatia Tompson. At the age of 16, he was apprenticed until the age of 21, to Richard Madeley of Dean Street, Birmingham, to learn the art of a factor (an Ironmonger). It was on completion of his apprenticeship, in April 1852, that Thomas enrolled as a cabin hand aboard the Ben Nevis. His plan was to reach Australia and become an Ironmonger.
Unlike most emigrants, Thomas left behind an extraordinary first-hand account of the voyage. His diary records not only the routine of daily life at sea but also the frustrations, hardships, humour and dangers encountered during the ninety-seven-day passage to Australia. Through his observations it becomes possible to experience the voyage much as Richard and Mary Webster themselves would have done.
In the pages that follow, the Webster family’s migration can therefore be viewed not simply through official records but through the contemporary experiences of one of their fellow travellers. It is this combination of genealogical evidence and personal testimony that makes the voyage of the Ben Nevis one of the most vividly documented emigrant journeys of the early Victorian period.
Daily Life aboard the Ben Nevis
Thomas Tompson Bates began his diary on 27 September 1852, the day the Ben Nevis finally departed Liverpool. His account immediately captures the excitement and uncertainty that accompanied the beginning of the voyage. He recorded that the ship “Weighed anchor at 6 half am with a strong breeze,” adding that they soon saw the lighthouse and caught “a glimpse of the Welsh coast.” While Bates himself escaped the worst effects of the movement of the ship, he observed that “All the ladies and many of the Gentlemen were exceedingly ill.” Like countless emigrants before and after them, Richard and Mary Webster almost certainly experienced the same sudden introduction to life at sea.
Routine, Rations and Passenger Grievances
By the following day, Bates had already begun to record the disciplined routine that governed life aboard the vessel. “A bell rings at 6 to wake us all,” he noted, marking the beginning of a daily schedule that would remain largely unchanged throughout the ninety-seven-day voyage.
Although contemporary reports had praised the Ben Nevis as one of the finest emigrant ships afloat, everyday life soon revealed the realities of nineteenth-century ocean travel. Passengers quickly settled into the routines that would govern their existence for more than three months. On 1 October Bates recorded that the emigrants were organised into “messes” of eight people who would manage their provisions together, a system intended to simplify the distribution of food and supplies throughout the voyage.
Life on board was frequently uncomfortable, and the diary preserves many small incidents that reveal the practical difficulties of emigrant travel. On 2 October Bates described how one passenger retrieved his belongings from the hold only to discover that “a gallon pot of jam” had broken and “run all amongst his things.” Such an incident serves as a reminder of the value passengers placed upon their limited personal possessions, many of which represented everything they owned as they embarked upon a new life on the opposite side of the world.
Food soon became a recurring source of dissatisfaction. On 5 October, while the ship lay becalmed, Bates tersely recorded that there was “Not half enough meat for dinner.” The following day tensions increased dramatically. One steward was “locked up for insulting another,” and Bates remarked that “there was a regular row.” His own mess fared particularly badly. “Went without dinner because we did not fetch the meat ourselves and lost our tea as the 1st mess drank it all,” he wrote, illustrating how easily poor organisation could leave passengers without their allotted rations.
These frustrations eventually prompted collective action. By 7 October the passengers had organised a meeting to present their complaints directly to Captain Heron. Bates played an active role in the proceedings, noting with some pride that they had “held a meeting and addressed the captain on our grievances. I represented our Mess.” The meeting appears to have caused concern among the ship’s officers, for Bates also observed that “All pistols and guns were given up to day.” Whether this precaution reflected fears of unrest or was simply a routine safety measure remains uncertain, but the entry illustrates the seriousness with which the authorities viewed passenger grievances during long emigrant voyages.
Despite these disagreements, the voyage was punctuated by moments of curiosity and humour. Bates carefully recorded the wildlife encountered at sea, including a turtle sighted near St Michael’s and what initially appeared to be a shark swimming alongside the ship, only to discover that it proved to be “a couple of towels blown overboard.” Such observations reveal the mixture of wonder and monotony that characterised months spent on the open ocean.
Curiosity, Hardship and Superstition at Sea
The hardships nevertheless continued. Bates repeatedly referred to the “very hard living” endured by passengers, suggesting that shortages of food and the general discomfort of shipboard life remained persistent problems throughout the early weeks of the voyage.
As the Ben Nevis approached the Canary Islands, the diary continued to record both the ordinary and the tragic. On 12 October Bates observed their passage past the islands, humorously remarking that a bird which landed aboard was “not a canary.” On the same day, however, he noted the death of an infant with characteristic brevity. The child, who had been “almost dead when it came on board,” “kicked the bucket today, was sewn up in cloth and deposited to the deep.” The matter-of-fact nature of the entry reflects both the harsh realities of nineteenth-century sea travel and the familiarity with death that many travellers of the period inevitably experienced.
Life aboard ship demanded constant adaptation. On 14 October Bates referred to the untidy cabin occupied by himself and his companions as “Uncle Toms cabin.” After thoroughly cleaning it, he found his efforts abruptly interrupted when Captain Heron came below and “unceremoniously ordered me out.” Bates’s opinion of the captain was frank and memorable. While acknowledging that Heron was “a good seaman,” he also described him as “a very coxy bullying fellow, and generally disliked.” The comment provides a revealing glimpse of relations between officers and passengers during the voyage.
Superstition also played its part in life at sea. On 29 October Bates recorded that the sailors discovered a woman had brought a cat aboard the vessel. Believing that the animal was responsible for the prolonged periods of calm weather, they caught it and threw it overboard, convinced that it “caused all the calms.” Such incidents remind modern readers that maritime folklore remained deeply embedded in the culture of nineteenth-century seafaring.
As the Ben Nevis approached the Equator, the heat became almost unbearable. Bates’s entries increasingly focused upon the oppressive tropical conditions. On 25 October he described the weather as “tremendously hot,” adding that “perspiration is streaming down” and that many passengers were forced to “lie in bed without anything on.” The discomfort caused by the heat became another challenge in an already demanding voyage.
The ship crossed the Equator on 1 November, entering the Trade Winds shortly afterwards. On 6 November Bates cheerfully noted the discovery of “some Molasses for breakfast, capital stuff at sea,” a small luxury that evidently lifted spirits after weeks of monotonous rations.
Notwithstanding these lighter moments, tensions continued to simmer among the passengers. On 7 November two men were placed in irons after becoming “drunk and disorderly,” while on 11 November Bates recorded another disturbance in which he witnessed “one man pulling out a knife to another.” Such incidents demonstrate that the confined conditions aboard an emigrant vessel could easily give rise to conflict during a voyage lasting more than three months.
Storm, Danger and the Approach to Australia
Towards the end of the year the Ben Nevis encountered the most dramatic event of the entire passage. On 31 December 1852, as the ship sailed in longitude 139 degrees and passengers hoped to sight land with the arrival of the New Year, they were struck by what Bates described as “a regular hurricane.”
His account of the storm is among the most vivid passages in the diary. He wrote that “The wind was dead against us,” forcing Captain Heron to reduce sail until he had “took off all the canvass.” Throughout the tempest the sky was illuminated by repeated flashes of what Bates called “chain lightning.”
“We had flashes of what is called chain lightning every 2nd minute forming itself into all sorts of shapes while the clouds were alternately red and black, very like some of the prints you sometimes see of a storm at sea. fearfully grand.”
The brief description conveys both the terror and the awe inspired by the storm. After more than three months at sea, the passengers had endured seasickness, shortages of food, oppressive tropical heat, quarrels among themselves, and the constant uncertainties of ocean travel. Yet the Ben Nevis survived the hurricane and continued towards Australia, carrying Richard and Mary Webster, Thomas Tompson Bates, and hundreds of other emigrants ever closer to the new lives they hoped to build in the Colony of Victoria.
Arrival in Victoria and the Life of Thomas Tompson Bates
The Ben Nevis survived the violent storm that marked the closing days of 1852 and, on 2 January 1853, the long-awaited Australian coastline finally came into view. Bates recorded the sighting of Point Otway, and that evening a pilot came aboard to guide the vessel safely towards Melbourne. After ninety-seven days at sea, the voyage that had begun in Liverpool was drawing to its conclusion.
On 3 January 1853 the Ben Nevis anchored opposite Williamstown in Melbourne, Victoria. Two days later the passengers, including Richard and Mary Webster and Thomas Tompson Bates, finally stepped ashore. Like thousands of new arrivals during the early years of the Victorian gold rush, they were immediately confronted by the excitement that had transformed the colony. Bates recorded that the universal advice offered to newcomers was simple: “go to the diggings.”
For many emigrants, the discovery of gold represented the quickest path to wealth, and countless new arrivals abandoned their original occupations in the hope of striking it rich. Thomas Bates, however, appears to have taken a different course. Although he had hoped to establish a partnership on arriving in Melbourne, he instead began writing the remarkable account of his voyage from “our private residence, Woolsthorpe Villa Chilwill.” His diary, preserved through the generations, provides an invaluable record of one of the most detailed emigrant voyages of the period and allows modern family historians to follow the journey of the Webster family with unusual clarity.
When Thomas arrived in Melbourne, he entered a city undergoing one of the most dramatic periods of growth in Australia’s colonial history. The discovery of gold had transformed Victoria almost overnight. Streets expanded rapidly, commercial buildings appeared across the city, banks and warehouses multiplied, hotels and shops flourished, and transport links developed to serve an ever-growing population. The demand for imported goods and skilled tradesmen was immense, creating opportunities for industrious migrants who were prepared to build businesses rather than seek fortunes on the goldfields.
Building a Life in Melbourne
Thomas appears to have recognised these opportunities. Rather than pursuing the uncertain rewards of mining, he established himself as an ironmonger, a trade that occupied an essential place within colonial society. Ironmongers supplied builders, farmers, householders and tradesmen with tools, agricultural equipment, locks, fittings, hardware and countless other manufactured goods required by a rapidly expanding settlement. In choosing commerce over speculation, Thomas adopted a more stable path that ultimately proved successful.
His progress over the following decade reflects the opportunities available to capable migrants during Victoria’s extraordinary period of economic growth. By the early 1860s he had established himself sufficiently to begin raising a family.
Marriage, Family and Loss
In 1863 Thomas married Sarah Jackson, who had been born in 1831. Thomas was approximately thirty-two years of age at the time of their marriage, and together they settled in St Kilda, Melbourne. Their family grew steadily with the birth of three children. Their eldest son, Edward Herbert Bates, was born in 1864. A daughter, Fanny Bates, followed on 17 August 1866, and their third child, Ethel Bates, was born in 1868.
The family’s happiness was, however, short-lived. On 5 June 1869 Sarah died at approximately thirty-eight years of age, leaving Thomas widowed with three very young children. Like many nineteenth-century widowers, he faced the challenge of balancing the demands of business with the responsibility of raising a young family.
Several years later Thomas married again. In 1873 he married Susannah Brumby, who had been born in 1850. The marriage produced one son, John Bates, born on 5 February 1874. John’s birth came only a year before another tragedy struck the family, bringing Thomas’s promising life and career to an unexpectedly early end.
By this stage Thomas had become an established member of Melbourne’s commercial community. His business premises at 171 Elizabeth Street occupied one of the city’s principal commercial thoroughfares. During the nineteenth century Elizabeth Street formed the heart of Melbourne’s expanding business district, lined with shops, warehouses, merchants and professional offices. Maintaining premises in such a prominent location indicates that Thomas had achieved a considerable measure of commercial success and social standing.
He was no longer simply an immigrant seeking opportunity in a distant colony. Through hard work and enterprise he had become part of Melbourne’s emerging business community, establishing himself as a respected ironmonger during one of the city’s most remarkable periods of growth.
His success, however, was cut tragically short.
On the evening of 23 January 1875 Thomas Tompson Bates died suddenly and unexpectedly. He was found dead behind the counter of his premises at 171 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne, at approximately 7.30 p.m. He was only forty-three years of age. At the time of his death he left behind his widow, Susannah, their infant son John, and his surviving children from his first marriage to Sarah Jackson.
His death was particularly poignant because he had achieved what so many nineteenth-century emigrants had hoped for when they left Britain. He had established a successful business, created a home and family, and secured a respected position within his adopted city. Yet, as was so often the case during the Victorian era, prosperity could offer no protection against premature death.
Thomas was buried at St Kilda, Victoria, and probate of his estate was granted on 4 March 1875. The probate records provide further evidence of his standing as a property-owning businessman and confirm that, despite his relatively short life, he had succeeded in building a secure and prosperous future in colonial Melbourne.
The Children of Thomas Tompson Bates
Although Thomas Tompson Bates died at the comparatively young age of forty-three, his legacy continued through the children of his two marriages. Their lives provide the link between the story of one young emigrant who crossed the world aboard the Ben Nevis and the generations of the Bates family that followed in Australia. The fortunes of his children also illustrate both the opportunities and hardships experienced by many colonial families during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Thomas’s eldest child, Edward Herbert Bates, was born in St Kilda, Victoria, in 1864 during the years in which his father’s business was becoming firmly established. His childhood, however, was overshadowed by tragedy. He was only five years old when his mother, Sarah Jackson, died in 1869, and eleven when his father died in 1875. Like many Victorian children who experienced the early loss of both parents, Edward’s subsequent life remains an area where further research would help establish how the family was supported and what direction his adult life eventually took.
Thomas’s second child, Fanny Bates, was born on 17 August 1866. She too experienced the disruption caused by the deaths of both parents while still a young child. Although comparatively little is presently known of her later life, her early years were shaped by the same family tragedies that affected her siblings.
It is Thomas’s youngest daughter from his first marriage, Ethel Bates, whose life is documented in the greatest detail and whose story provides one of the most compelling chapters in the history of the Bates family.
Ethel Bates
Born in St Kilda, Victoria, in 1868, Ethel was baptised at All Saints Church, St Kilda, on 18 April 1868. Her earliest years were marked by profound personal loss. She was only one year old when her mother died in 1869 and just seven years of age when her father died in 1875. Consequently, Ethel grew up having lost both parents during childhood, a circumstance that reflects the vulnerability of many nineteenth-century children whose lives were shaped by premature parental deaths.
Despite these difficult beginnings, Ethel established a family of her own. On 4 July 1888 she married Reginald Augustus Frederick Murray, and the couple settled in Victoria. During their marriage they had four children. Christina Dunmore Murray was born at Hawthorn, Victoria, on 25 May 1889 and lived until 1978. Katrine Elizabeth Alice Murray was born on 10 June 1891 and died in 1980. Their only son, Reginald Herbert Ernest Murray, was born on 3 October 1893 and also died in 1980. Their youngest daughter, Phyllis Ethel Sheila Murray, was born on 2 August 1901. Together these children carried Thomas Bates’ descendants into the twentieth century.
By the opening years of the twentieth century, however, Ethel’s marriage had deteriorated. In 1906 Reginald Murray instituted divorce proceedings, alleging that the marriage had broken down because of Ethel’s relationship with Michael Dennis Hogan, who was also known as “Dick Adams.” Divorce at this time remained comparatively uncommon in Victoria and carried considerable social and legal stigma. The proceedings therefore represented a significant and very public event in the family’s history.
The relationship between Ethel and Michael Dennis Hogan resulted in the birth of a son, Oscar Murray, on 21 July 1906. Although Oscar was born while Ethel remained legally married to Reginald Murray, the contemporary evidence and later family records indicate that Michael Dennis Hogan was Oscar’s biological father. Nevertheless, Oscar retained the surname Murray, reflecting the legal conventions of the period rather than his biological parentage.
Following the dissolution of her marriage, Ethel married Michael Dennis Hogan in 1909. Their marriage, however, was tragically brief. Michael died at Hawthorn, Victoria, on 1 April 1911. Sadly, only a few months later her own life also came to a tragic end.
The circumstances surrounding Ethel’s death are recorded in official documents and remain among the most poignant episodes in the family’s history. On 7 November 1911 she was lodging at 43 Upton Road, Windsor. After she failed to respond during the afternoon, her landlord checked her room and found her deceased with a bottle marked “Lysol” in her hand. The landlord immediately summoned medical assistance, but Dr Bett pronounced life extinct. The subsequent coroner’s investigation recorded that she had died from Lysol poisoning, which was believed to have been self-administered. The investigation also noted evidence of medical depression. Ethel was later buried at Springvale Cemetery, Victoria.
Ethel’s story provides a sobering reminder that the prosperity achieved by one generation did not necessarily protect the next from personal hardship. Thomas Tompson Bates had crossed half the world in search of opportunity and had succeeded in establishing himself as a respected businessman in Melbourne. His daughter was born into the colonial society that he helped to build, yet her life demonstrates that financial security and social standing could not shield families from grief, illness or personal tragedy.
Her experiences also illustrate the changing social landscape of early twentieth-century Australia. Divorce remained rare and often attracted considerable public attention, while mental health conditions were poorly understood and effective treatment was extremely limited. Read in this context, Ethel’s life reflects not only the history of one family but also the wider social realities of the period.
The lives of Thomas Bates’s children and grandchildren carried his family into a new century, extending the legacy that had begun when a twenty-one-year-old apprentice boarded the Ben Nevis in Liverpool during September 1852. Through them, his story continued long after his own life had ended, connecting his remarkable voyage with succeeding generations of the Bates family in Australia.
The Webster Family in Colonial Australia
For Richard and Mary Webster, the arrival of the Ben Nevis at Melbourne in January 1853 marked not the end of their journey but the beginning of an entirely new life. Like many young emigrant couples who arrived during the early years of the Victorian gold rush, they soon looked beyond Melbourne towards the expanding settlements of inland New South Wales, where opportunities existed for those prepared to endure the hardships of frontier life.
Richard Webster had been born in 1832 at Pickhill, Yorkshire, the son of Robert Webster and Elizabeth Daniel. He was baptised at Pickhill on 13 January 1832 and spent his childhood within the agricultural community where his family had lived for generations. Census records place him at Pickhill in 1841 and at Sandholme, Pickhill, in 1851, where he remained with his parents before beginning his own family.
Pickhill Church
Mary Routledge was born on 4 June 1830 at Pickhill, Yorkshire, one of twin daughters born to John Routledge, the village schoolmaster, and his wife Mary Proctor. Her twin sister, Margaret, survived for only a few weeks, dying on 20 July 1830. Mary was baptised at Pickhill on 10 July 1831, when her father’s occupation was recorded as schoolmaster. She spent her childhood in Pickhill and was recorded there with her family in both the 1841 and 1851 censuses.
Richard and Mary were married at Cowesby, Yorkshire, on 10 July 1852. They had been husband and wife for only a matter of weeks before making the life-changing decision to leave England. On 27 September 1852 they boarded the Ben Nevis at Liverpool, joining hundreds of other emigrants bound for Australia. Their shared voyage, illuminated by the diary of Thomas Tompson Bates, remains one of the most vividly documented emigrant passages of the period.
The passenger list described Richard as a farmer, but within a relatively short time of arriving in Australia he had adopted the occupation of butcher. Like many pioneers, he adapted his skills to meet the needs of rapidly developing settlements where practical trades were in constant demand.
Settlement, Children and Frontier Hardship
The couple eventually settled in the district of Deniliquin before moving further north into the Peel River and Bowling Alley Point districts of New South Wales. Their first surviving child, Robert Routledge Webster, was born at Deniliquin on 27 February 1854. His middle name perpetuated Mary’s maiden family and reflected the common nineteenth-century practice of preserving maternal surnames within succeeding generations.
Richard and Mary continued to establish their family as they moved through the developing settlements of colonial New South Wales. In 1858 another son, named Richard after his father, was born but died on the day of his birth. The following year a second son bearing the same name, Richard Webster, was born on 17 March 1859 at Peel River. He survived to adulthood and lived until 1908.
Their family continued to grow with the birth of Henry Webster at Bowling Alley Point on 10 March 1861. Sadly, Henry died on 28 July 1864 at only three years of age. Such losses were a harsh reality for colonial families, where childhood illness remained common and medical assistance was often limited in isolated settlements.
Two daughters followed. Mary Elizabeth Webster was born on 1 October 1863, and Eliza Webster on 20 November 1866. Throughout these years Richard continued his work as a butcher and, on 5 September 1865, records place the family at Bowling Alley Point, one of the small but important communities serving the surrounding pastoral and mining districts.
During the 1850s, the Peel River and Bowling Alley Point districts transformed from quiet pastoral lands into bustling, rugged goldfields following major discoveries. Thousands of prospectors flocked to the area, establishing lively tent communities and mining camps along the riverbanks to work both shallow alluvial deposits and quartz reefs. Despite the harsh terrain and physical hardships of the diggings, the boom permanently shaped the region’s history before the focus eventually shifted back to agriculture.
Richard’s Death and Mary’s Resilience
Tragedy struck the Webster family on 9 May 1868 when Richard Webster died and his death was recorded at nearby Nundle, New South Wales. Richard was just thirty-six years of age. The recorded cause of death was Colonial Fever, now recognised as typhoid fever, one of the great killers of nineteenth-century Australia. Diseases spread easily through rapidly expanding settlements where sanitation was often inadequate, and many otherwise healthy pioneers succumbed to infections that today are largely preventable.
Richard’s death brought to an abrupt end a life marked by courage, determination and hard work. In little more than fifteen years he had travelled halfway around the world, established himself in a new colony, changed occupations, and helped create a growing family in one of the most challenging frontier districts of New South Wales.
At the time of Richard’s death, Mary was expecting another child. Three months later, on 10 August 1868, she gave birth to their youngest daughter, Annie Webster, at Bowling Alley Point near Hanging Rock. Annie would therefore never know her father, who had died before her birth.
Widowed at only thirty-seven years of age and alone with a young family, Mary demonstrated remarkable resilience. In 1870 she married George William Warden at Tamworth, New South Wales. Their marriage produced one son, George William Warden, who was born in 1872, and together they continued to make their home in the Bowling Alley Point district. Records show Mary was still living there on 18 February 1874.
Mary remained connected with both her English and Australian families throughout her life. She survived her father, John Routledge, who died at Pickhill on 23 May 1872, and later her mother, Mary Proctor, who died about 1875. Despite the vast distance separating Yorkshire from New South Wales, the ties between the two branches of the family endured across the generations.
Mary Routledge Webster Warden died at Bowling Alley Point on 27 October 1901. Having survived her first husband by more than thirty-three years, she witnessed the establishment of the family that she and Richard had begun when they left Yorkshire in 1852. She was buried at Nundle beside Richard, bringing their remarkable story full circle.
Their lives exemplify the experiences of many nineteenth-century emigrants. They left behind the familiar villages of rural Yorkshire, endured the long voyage to Australia aboard the Ben Nevis, adapted to the demands of a developing colony, and raised a family despite hardship, bereavement and the uncertainties of frontier life. Their descendants became part of the continuing history of New South Wales, ensuring that the decision made by a young couple in 1852 shaped generations that followed.
Passenger manifests preserve only the barest details of those who crossed the oceans during the great age of nineteenth-century migration. Names, ages, occupations and places of origin reveal little of the hopes, fears and experiences of the individuals themselves. Yet, through the remarkable survival of Thomas Tompson Bates’s diary, together with official genealogical records, it is possible to reconstruct one such voyage in extraordinary detail.
The diary allows us to experience the ninety-seven-day passage of the Ben Nevis almost as the passengers themselves experienced it. Through Bates’s observations we witness the discomforts of life at sea, the disputes over provisions, the oppressive tropical heat, the dangers of storms and the excitement of finally reaching Australia. At the same time, the genealogical record follows Richard and Mary Webster beyond their arrival, documenting the family they established, the hardships they endured and the legacy they created in colonial New South Wales.
Thomas Tompson Bates and Richard and Mary Webster travelled to Australia for different reasons and followed different paths after their arrival. Bates established himself as a successful Melbourne ironmonger whose diary has become an invaluable historical source. Richard and Mary built their lives in the developing settlements of New South Wales, where their descendants became part of the pioneering history of the colony. Their stories intersect only briefly during the voyage of the Ben Nevis, yet together they provide an unusually complete picture of nineteenth-century migration.
Every name recorded on a passenger list represents a life filled with ambition, uncertainty, sacrifice and resilience. Few emigrant voyages can be reconstructed with the richness of detail preserved in the diary of Thomas Tompson Bates. Combined with the documentary record of the Webster family, these surviving sources transform what might otherwise have remained a simple list of passengers into the story of ordinary people whose courage and perseverance helped shape colonial Australia.
Sources:
- The Wendish Research Exchange: https://wendishresearch.org/history-and-culture/people/daphne-garrett/historical-notes-2-ben-nevis/ [accessed 06/08/2026]
- State Library of Australia.
- Victoria, Australia, Assisted and Unassisted Passenger Lists, 1839-1923, Ancestry.com [accessed 06/08/2026].
- Jayne Webster (nee McPhee) The Webster Family on the Ben Nevis.
- Victoria, Australia, Coroner Inquest Deposition Files, 1840-1925, Ancestry.com [accessed 06/08/2026].
- Victoria, Australia, Divorce Records, 1860-1940, Ancestry.com [accessed 06/08/2026].
{c) RootedLinesGenealogy 2026
