Chapter 1
Crime and Transportation: Hannah Brown (1795 - 1835) & Thomas Marslin (1787-1854)
In the early 19th century, two of my maternal ancestors, Hannah Brown and Thomas Marslin*, saw their lives irrevocably altered by the forces shaping industrial England and colonial Australia. Both were deeply affected by the changes of their era—Hannah by the harsh realities of industrial London and Thomas by the struggles of rural England. Their lives were shaped by poverty and an unforgiving legal system, leading them to an unknown future in Australia. Despite the hardships of their voyages and the challenges that awaited them, both showed great strength in adapting to their new lives. Their stories testify to the endurance of those forced to start over in a harsh and unfamiliar land.
Hannah Brown: Early Life
Hannah Brown was born on October 31, 1794, in the small rural setting of Mayden Croft, Hartford, England. Her father, John Brown, was then 23, and her mother, Mary S. Street, was 19. Though John’s family had roots in Essex, he was born in Cripplegate, London, and baptized in Kingsland, Herefordshire, in 1772. Mary’s family hailed from Suffolk, though she herself was born in Latton, a village near London. Their rural backgrounds, followed by their urban upbringings, mirror a growing pattern of families transitioning from countryside to city life—a trend that defined much of this period in England.
Before they married on April 17, 1801, in Stepney, London, John and Mary had welcomed three children: Melicent (1794-1876), Hannah (1795-1835), and John (1799-1850). In those times, many working-class couples postponed marriage due to economic uncertainties, a decision often born of necessity rather than choice. For the Browns, survival and family stability often outweighed social conventions, with marriage following only once circumstances allowed. Their story reflects the resilience and adaptability of families navigating the challenges of a rapidly changing society.
The Browns’ story illustrates the realities faced by many families during the Industrial Revolution in England. The complex political, social and economic in the late 18th century marked a dramatic shift from rural economies to industrialised urban societies. This period saw the rise of factories, mass production, and technological advancements like the steam engine and the railway. While it brought about significant economic growth, it also led to overcrowded cities, harsh working conditions, and widespread social changes as rural families, like the Browns, flocked to urban centres in search of work.
This shift from rural to urban environments profoundly impacted Hannah’s life as her family transitioned from the slower-paced, close-knit world of the countryside to the bustling, crowded streets of London. Hannah was thrust into the harsh realities of industrial labour, where factory work replaced traditional home-based textile production. Children were employed to repair broken threads on spinning machines or as scavengers, to crawl under machinery to collect waste cotton or wool. Other children worked as doffers, replacing full bobbins with empty ones on spinning frames.
All these tasks were dangerous, and the demands and risks of these jobs frequently led to injuries and chronic health issues among child workers. Only after the Factory Act of 1802 did conditions improve. This was a belated intervention by the government to limit working hours, increase the minimum working age, and improve safety standards. Even then, a lack of inspectors meant many abuses, a situation noted and publicised by charities, philanthropists, and authors with a social conscience like Charles Dickens (1812-1870).
Textile workers, including many children, played a central role in the burgeoning industrial economy of the early 19th century. Child workers like Hannah Brown faced harsh conditions, long hours, and significant risks while operating spinning frames and other machinery in textile mills.
Women’s prisons in the early 19th century were overcrowded and harsh. Hannah Brown would have been held in a similar facility before her transportation to New South Wales.
Hannah’s Struggles and Turning Point
The reforms of the 19th century were slow to improve conditions for child workers like Hannah, and the physical toll on her health would have been significant. She likely suffered from ailments such as “mill phthisis” (cotton lung) caused by inhaling cotton dust in the factories where she worked. Though we have no detailed accounts of how the factory overseers treated Hannah, reports from the time suggest that physical and psychological abuse were all too common. The thought of my great-great-great-grandmother enduring such treatment is heartbreaking. Hannah likely faced the harsh discipline and unforgiving conditions that characterised life in the mills, leaving lasting marks on her body and spirit. There was little chance for fun or play. The highlight of her week was likely attending church and spending Sundays with her family. Each day, she shuffled to work alongside her parents, unable to foresee how her life might ever change.
In 1813, at just 18 years old, Hannah’s life took a dramatic turn. Her mother had recently given birth to two younger sisters—Mary in 1812 and Maria in 1813. These additions to the family may have heightened the pressure on Hannah to help support her struggling household, and Hannah resorted to theft. She stole four yards of muslin belonging to Thomas Sonby, a shawl belonging to John Bennet, and a yard of lace belonging to Henry Gray. She was arrested, brought before Mr Justice Gibbs in Middlesex, and found guilty and condemned to death. It was a dreadful punishment, yet not everyone was heartless; the jury recommended mercy, citing the “smallness of the property” stolen. Nevertheless, she was sentenced to be transported for life to the Colony of New South Wales and confined to Middlesex Gaol. Within its notorious walls, Hannah awaited transportation to the farthest reaches of the world.
Hannah Brown: Life Aboard Convict Ship Broxbornebury in 1814
Hannah Brown was transported to Botany Bay aboard the Broxbornebury, a convict ship that set sail from London on 22 February 1814. The ship carried 120 female convicts, passengers, cargo, and merchandise. Thomas Pitcher Jr. commanded the ship, and Colin McLachlan served as the surgeon superintendent. It arrived in Port Jackson after a 156-day voyage. Hannah must have been devastated as the ship sailed, knowing she would never see her family again. Her punishment for such a minor crime was part of a broader British policy of using convicts to expand the Empire. Hannah found herself entangled in a system designed not only to punish but also to populate the fledgling colony in Australia.** British policymakers understood that women were essential to establishing a permanent settlement in a new land they could add to their empire.
Babette Smith, in A Cargo of Women, provides an understanding of the broader experiences of convict women like Hannah Brown. Smith argues that female convicts were not merely prisoners but essential agents in the British Empire’s efforts to establish a permanent settlement in New South Wales. Although Hannah’s transportation occurred two decades earlier than the events Smith recounts, the motivations and consequences of female convict transportation were strikingly similar. Like the women aboard the Princess Royal, Hannah’s punishment was shaped by economic desperation and systemic inequities in Britain. Smith highlights how convict women, though often stigmatized, played crucial roles as labourers, mothers, and settlers, contributing significantly to the survival and growth of the colony. For Hannah, the voyage on the Broxbornebury and her subsequent life in New South Wales likely reflected the same tensions Smith describes: the harsh realities of penal servitude balanced against the opportunities for reinvention and resilience in an unfamiliar land. While the policies that sentenced Hannah may have been punitive, they were also part of a larger colonial strategy to shape the social and demographic fabric of the fledgling settlement.
The vagaries of fate played a crucial role in the lives of convicts transported to the Colony of New South Wales. Beyond the inherent dangers of 19th-century sea travel, the character and skill of the captain and crew greatly influenced how convicts like Hannah were treated. Disease remained the greatest and most feared threat, as shown by the tragic fate of the Surry, another convict ship that sailed to Port Jackson at the same time as Hannah’s vessel. Carrying 200 male convicts, the Surry was ravaged by typhus—a highly infectious disease spread by lice. It did make the journey to Port Jackson, but only with a terrible loss of life.
The hazardous nature of Hannah’s journey was just as stark—survival was never guaranteed, and many convicts faced death long before they ever saw the shores of Australia. Fortunately, there was no typhus outbreak or other fatal disease aboard the Broxbornebury. Perhaps hygiene among the female convicts was better, but Hannah still endured overcrowded and unsanitary conditions. The voyage was long and treacherous, with many women suffering from malnutrition, scurvy, and abuse from the crew. Each day aboard the ship must have felt endless for Hannah as she grappled with fear and homesickness, her thoughts often drifting back to the life she had left behind in London with her newly born brother and sister. The familiar streets and her family must have seemed like distant memories as she faced the harsh reality of her new life at sea. She likely wondered if she would even survive to see the distant shores of Australia.
Life aboard the convict ships was gruelling. The women endured poor rations of salted meat and hard biscuits, with little access to fresh water, leaving many malnourished. Daily tasks, like cleaning the decks and maintaining hygiene, added to their exhaustion, while the constant fear of harsh punishments—such as floggings—loomed over them. Medical care was limited, and illnesses spread quickly in the cramped quarters. A Surgeon’s Journal of the time noted that:
The women were exceedingly poorly clothed, having little more than a few rags to cover them. Their health was fragile, with many suffering from scurvy and other afflictions brought on by the poor provisions.
Despite these hardships, Hannah may have found strength in the relationships she built with other women on board. Together, they likely shared whispered conversations about their families, fears, and hopes, offering one another the emotional support needed to endure the monotonous months at sea. These women, like Hannah, were not passive victims; many demonstrated remarkable defiance and resilience, resisting exploitation and asserting their dignity whenever possible. Historical evidence shows that some women fought back against harsh treatment, used cunning to secure better conditions, or found ways to preserve their identity and humanity in the face of brutal circumstances. Hannah, too, may have been more resilient than she realised. Her experiences on the Broxbornebury likely steeled her for the challenges ahead, helping her develop the strength and endurance she would need to survive in the penal colony.
Arrival and New Beginnings
As the Broxbornebury entered the magnificent harbour of Port Jackson in July 1814, Hannah's emotions must have been bittersweet. The long, arduous journey had finally ended, and she had survived, bringing her a sense of relief. But stepping off the ship meant stepping into an unknown future—a penal colony where she faced a lifetime of hard labour and uncertainty. Reflecting on Hannah’s experience aboard the Broxbornebury, I believe the deprivations she endured were part of a larger narrative of adaptation and the creation of new lives in Australia. Her hardships were not the end of her story but the beginning of a new chapter in a land that would eventually become home to her and thousands of others like her.
Typical of the convict ships used to transport prisoners like Hannah Brown from Britain to New South Wales in the early 19th century, these vessels endured long and perilous journeys across the oceans
Prison hulks, like the one depicted here, were repurposed ships used to house prisoners in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, alleviating overcrowding in land-based prisons. Conditions on these floating jails were often harsh and unhygienic.
Thomas Marslin - His Early Life and Conviction
Thomas was born on 27 April 1792 in Surrey, England, to Robert Marslem (or a similarly spelled surname) and Ann. Very little is known about his parents beyond their names, but growing up in Surrey, a county known for its rolling hills, woodlands, and agricultural fields, young Thomas would likely have been surrounded by a lifestyle grounded in manual work and rural duties. From what can be inferred about his later employment, Thomas may have worked from a young age as a stable hand or groom, learning the skills needed to care for horses. As a stable hand, his daily tasks would have included feeding, watering, and grooming the horses, keeping the stables clean, and maintaining equipment such as saddles and bridles. His work would have required patience, physical strength, and an understanding of horses—a skill that, despite the simplicity of his life, connected him to an essential part of rural English society at the time.
At 25, Thomas made an ill-fated decision that would irrevocably alter the course of his life. Perhaps driven by economic pressures or simply by an opportunity that seemed too tempting, he was convicted on August 13, 1817, in Croydon, Surrey, for felony larceny—specifically, stealing garments from local bleaching grounds. The punishment was severe: a life sentence and transportation to New South Wales. Before his departure, Thomas spent a period confined aboard the notorious prison hulk Bellerophon, moored at Woolwich. These hulks, repurposed warships, were used as holding cells for convicts awaiting transportation, and life aboard was harsh and crowded, often with minimal provisions. From this grim beginning, Thomas would eventually find himself bound for New South Wales on the convict ship Glory, marking the start of a journey that would carry him far from his homeland to the unfamiliar shores of a penal colony.
Convict Voyage on the Glory
In 1818, at the age of 26, Thomas Maslin found himself aboard the convict ship Glory, bound for the distant and unknown shores of New South Wales. The ship was a sturdy 400-ton vessel commanded by Captain Edward Pounder, carrying 170 male convicts, including Thomas, under a life sentence. Joining the convicts were a few free settlers and a military guard of 28 soldiers from the 87th Regiment of Foot, tasked with maintaining order during the voyage. Tragically, one soldier succumbed to illness along the way, but the convicts endured the journey with no reported deaths—a rare outcome for such voyages.
Life on Glory was far from easy. Though some convicts might have been assigned tasks such as maintaining the ship or handling sails, most faced the daily grind of confinement below deck, where cramped, unsanitary conditions prevailed. The foul air, compounded by the relentless stench of human waste, the oppressive heat, and the infestation of rats and lice, made each day nearly unbearable. Disease was a constant threat; just a few years earlier, typhus had swept through another convict ship, the Surry, claiming lives across both convicts and crew. Fortunately, Glory avoided such an outbreak, likely due to strict quarantine measures and improved hygiene practices that were increasingly observed on these convict transports.
The hierarchical structure aboard the ship meant that officers and guards held complete authority, enforcing discipline as they saw fit. Harsh punishments, including floggings, were standard to keep order, leaving convicts like Thomas vulnerable to potential abuse. This power dynamic could easily be exploited, and the fear of punishment was an ever-present aspect of convict life on the high seas.
As Glory sailed the vast, often treacherous ocean, Thomas was left to grapple with the uncertainty of what awaited him in this strange new land. The ship’s creaking timbers and the constant swell of the sea likely mirrored his own anxieties. Apart from quiet conversations with his fellow convicts, the voyage was punctuated by the familiar yet ominous sounds of a ship at sea: the sharp snap and flutter of sails, ropes straining under tension, and the groaning of the wooden hull as it cleaved through the waves.
Throughout the voyage, Thomas would have looked into the faces of his fellow convicts, many like him condemned to a life sentence. In their shared fate, he might have found a measure of solidarity and solace. Though the future was uncertain, there was perhaps a faint hope that New South Wales might offer the chance to carve out a new life, however limited it seemed. When faced with dreadful circumstances that could easily break a person’s spirit, history records that some manage to draw from a quiet strength within, an inner resolve that helps them endure while others might falter. I hope that Thomas, during his gruelling journey aboard the Glory, found that hidden well of courage within himself.
Thomas Marslin, my great-great-great-grandfather, arrived in the colony of New South Wales at the age of 26 on September 14, 1818, stepping off the Glory into a world as uncertain as it was vast. Like Hannah Brown, who had arrived four years earlier on the Broxbornebury, his emotions at that moment must have been complex—a blend of relief at surviving the long journey and trepidation at facing a life bound by the constraints of a penal colony. For both, the journey across the ocean only began a more profound, personal journey of survival. Just as Hannah had arrived alone, confronting a future that offered little comfort or certainty, Thomas, too, would have shared the same sense of vulnerability as he faced the unknown. Yet, this land—harsh and foreign at first—would become the place where both would ultimately forge new lives.
Notes:
Throughout historical records related to Thomas Marslin and his family, the spelling of the surname varies significantly. In this chapter, I will refer to Thomas Marslin, which is the preferred spelling for this section. However, other name variations appear in documents, including Marsling, Marslen, Maslin Maslen and Mazlin. These variations highlight the challenges of historical research, especially when dealing with handwritten records and different regional accents. I explore this issue in the blog post: What’s in a Name?
The study of convict history has shifted significantly over time. While early accounts focused on battles, military strategy, and political leaders, modern historians now examine the broader social and cultural impacts of conflict. Greater attention is given to the experiences of marginalized groups, including women, indigenous populations, and civilians, offering a more inclusive view of history. This evolving approach deepens our understanding of the complexities and consequences of conflict.
My blog post, The Evolution of Convict History, explains how these shifts have influenced the way we view history.
*** There are two distinct versions of the story surrounding Thomas Mesling’s life. One account suggests that he arrived in the colony on the Indefatigable, met Hannah Brown in Newcastle, and after serving his time, was granted a full pardon and returned to the UK. In contrast, another version claims that Mesling arrived aboard the ship Glory, had a child with Hannah Brown, and remained in the colony for the rest of his life. These conflicting narratives reflect the challenges of tracing historical figures through fragmented and sometimes contradictory records. I will delve deeper into these contested stories in an upcoming blog post.
References:
Smith, B. (2008). A cargo of women: Susannah Watson and the convicts of the Princess Royal. UNSW Press.Bateson, C. (1983). The convict ships, 1787-1868 (Australian ed.). Library of Australian History.
Clark, C. M. H. (1963). A Short History of Australia. New York: New American Library.
Clark, Manning. (1962). The Currency Lad. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press.
Convict Records. (n.d.). Indefatigable Voyages. Retrieved from https://convictrecords.com.au/ships/indefatigable/voyages/54?convicts=3
Daniels, Kay. (1998). Convict Women. St. Leonards, NSW: Allen & Unwin.
Fry, E. (1827). Memoir of the Life of Elizabeth Fry: With Extracts from Her Journal and Letters. London: J. Hatchard and Son.
Hirst, John. (2000). Currency Lads and Lasses. Sydney: Oxford University Press.
Hughes, Robert. (1987). The Fatal Shore: The Epic of Australia’s Founding. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
Karskens, Grace. (2009). The Colony: A History of Early Sydney. Sydney: Allen & Unwin.
O’Donoghue, Judith Mazlin. Great Adventures and Achievements: The Story of the Mazlin Family. Unpublished Manuscript.
Oxley, Deborah. (1996). Convict Maids: The Forced Migration of Women to Australia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Smith, Babette. (2017). Defiant Voices: How Australia’s Female Convicts Challenged Authority. Sydney: Allen & Unwin.
Surgeon’s Journal of the Convict Ship Mary Ann, 1822 (As cited in Smith, B. (2017). Defiant Voices: How Australia’s Female Convicts Challenged Authority. Sydney: Allen & Unwin.)
Image Generation:
Images used in the blog were generated using AI tools provided by OpenAI.