Tag Archives: Colonial History

NSW History Week – Day 3

Military mayhem in 1796

In support of NSW History Week 2022, here is the third of five stories that formed the basis of my research for my novel More Than I Ever Had. This book is based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill, who enlisted in the New South Wales Corps in 1789 in Birmingham.

In February 1796, Theophilus Feutrill was one of four people whose name was on an arrest warrant issued by the Governor of New South Wales, John Hunter. If found guilty of the charges, the men named would be “obliged to answer for it, most probably with their lives.”

What were the circumstances that lead to this arrest warrant being issued? And, could Theo Feutrill, and the three other privates whose names were on the arrest warrants, really be the masterminds behind what happened, or where they just the scapegoats?

When John Hunter took over as Governor of New South Wales in September 1795, he knew he had a tough job ahead of him. The settlement was largely dependent on rum as currency and much at the mercy of the monopolistic trading practices of the military hierarchy and other officials. He complained in harsh terms to the Duke of Portland (one of the three Secretaries of State, who Hunter reported to) about the quality of the military members:

“…I should feel myself deficient in that duty which I owe to his Majesty’s service in this part of the world were I not to take a liberty which I have no reason to believe your Grace will be offended at—I mean, in remarking that the manner in which this corps has, since employed upon this service, been recruited does in a great measure weaken the effect or service which we would expect to derive from the assistance of the military. Soldiers from the Savoy,* and other characters who have been considered as disgraceful to every other regiment in his Majesty’s service, have been thought fit and proper recruits for the New South Wales Corps, which, in my humble opinion, my Lord, should have been composed of the very best and most orderly dispositions. They are sent here to guard and to keep in obedience to the laws, when force may be requisite, a set of the worst, the most atrocious characters that ever disgraced human nature; and yet we find amongst those safeguards men capable of corrupting the heart of the best disposed, and often superior in every species of infamy to the most expert in wickedness amongst the convicts. Our stores, provisions, and granaries must be intrusted (sic) to the care of those men: what security can we have in the hands of such people?”

*The Savoy was the name of the prison which housed military offenders.

At the time, Governor Hunter was approaching the age of sixty. Those who supported him were significantly younger: Captain Paterson, the commander of the Corps was forty; Captain John Macarthur, Inspector of Public Works, was twenty-eight. No others were older than Paterson. In the absence of a free press where independent commentary might have reached those back in London, the Duke of Portland relied not only on dispatches from Hunter, but he was also being petitioned by the likes of the ambitious John Macarthur, who held little back in his criticisms of the administration.

Governor Hunter’s leadership was tested following an event which occurred on 5 February 1796, and is considered to be the catalyst for the Duke of Portland to eventually recall him to England and replace him as Governor. In a letter from Governor Hunter to the Duke of Portland dated 10 August 1796 (which was not acknowledged by Portland until more than a year later on 31 August 1797), Hunter outlines an event which he describes as an ‘outrage’. An abridged version of his report is below:

“Statement of the Case of John Baughan.

John Baughan…foreman of the carpenters working at Sydney, and a private soldier of the New South Wales Corps, (also a carpenter), had some dispute when formerly working together… This dispute, it appeared, had not subsided in the min of the soldier, and was probably not wholly forgot by the other.

…One day when sentinel over a storehouse, knowing that Baughan was at work in a house some distance from his post, (the Private) set his arms down against the wall of the store, and seeing a man whom he knew standing on the outside of the building in which Baughan was at work, entered into a conversation with him, of which Baughan was the subject, and which much abuse was bestowed, (and)… meant for Baughan (to) (over)hear.

Baughan went out at the back door unperceived, and seeing the soldier without his arms, went to his post, where he found the musquet, which he took up and carried to the guard-house, and delivered to the Serjeant (sic) of the guard. The soldier was, of course, taken notice of and relieved, being without his arms.

The next day, 5th February, at half-past nine o’clock in the forenoon, the whole of the corps off duty at this place assembled, and in the most public and tumultuous manner proceeded to the dwelling of John Baughan, broke open his gates, doors, and windows, entered his house, chopped the corner-posts of it, broke his bedsteads and bedding, chairs, window-frames, drawers, chests, and, in short, completely demolished everything within his possession to a considerable amount, for the man had, by great labour and industry, built himself a neat house, and had it well furnished.

Upon their first approach, having had a few minutes’ notice, he armed himself with a loaded gun and defended himself by threats for some time, but their numbers were so many that they surrounded his paling which inclosed (sic) the house, which some tore down and entered on the opposite side to that which he endeavoured to defend, came behind him, secured and threw him down, with his face to the ground, whilst one held an axe over his neck, and swore if he offered to stir he would chop the head from his body. During the time he remained in this situation they completed the ruin of his whole property, to the very great terror of the man’s wife, after which they went off cheering, as if something meritorious had been effected, and marched in a body cross the parade before their commanding officer’s house.

After so daring an attack, in the open day, upon the dwelling-house of an inhabitant, and in direct defiance of all law, civil or military, they could only be considered as in a state of mutiny. I immediately issued in Public Orders the paper No. 2.”

Public Orders Paper #2 is reproduced below:

Government and General Order.  5th February, 1796.

“The very riotous manner in which the soldiers have conducted themselves this morning, and the very unwarrantable liberty they have thought proper to take in destroying the dwelling-house of John Baughan, is so flagrant a crime against the laws established in this colony that nothing but the want of proof to substantiate who the principal actors in this disgraceful business were could possibly prevent their being immediately tried for so glaring an offence against the peace of the colony.

The Governor thinks it necessary to assure the soldiers that he considers their conduct upon this occasion to have been disgraceful to the character of a British soldier, and that he did hope to have found men amongst them who would have had pride enough to have stood forward and pointed out the ringleaders of so mutinous a conduct, for in no other light can it be considered than that of mutiny when the military assemble in such numbers unknown to their officers, who are at all times ready to listen to any complaints they may have to make, and to see that agreeable to common justice they are redressed. If the soldiers expect that the Governor or any of the officers in this settlement can hereafter consider them as…meriting the honorable appellation of British troops, it must be by their bringing forward the ringleaders or advisers of this disgraceful conduct, in order that the stigma may be wiped away by such worthless characters being brought to trial for this shameful conduct.”

The reception of the Public Orders and mood of the soldiers is indicated by Governor Hunter in his letter to the Duke of Portland:

“But as an alteration in the ration had at that very time been ordered, I think it necessary to observe that their temper at the moment was so violent that they positively refused to take it unless they were served all flour, instead of part flour and part corn, a desire which could not be complied with without manifest injustice to others, and also insisted upon being paid short-allowance money for the time they were on short ration, which they say Governor Phillip had promised them. This last demand I must request your Grace’s instructions upon.”

Governor Hunter met with the commander of the Corps, Captain William Paterson on 6 February and wrote to him the next day advising his change of heart (wisely) in wanting to address the soldiers directly. He couched his decision that to address them directly “would be a condescention on my part which their violent and unsoldierlike conduct does not entitle them to from me.” He goes on to say to Paterson: 

“I must declare to you, sir, that the conduct of this part of the New South Wales Corps has been,…the most violent and outrageous that was ever heard of by any British regiment whatever, and I shall consider every step they may go father in aggravation as rebellion against his Majesty’s government and authority, of which the most early notice shall be taken, and those concerned be in due time obliged to answer for it, probably with their lives.”

As previously mentioned, the Duke of Portland did not respond to Governor Hunter on this matter for more than a year, leaving the governor to deal with this without his support. The governor did, however, have the support of Doctor William Balmain who (without legal training) held the position of Judge-Advocate. From the military side, Captain John Macarthur represented the interests of the NSW Corps.

After the attack on his home, John Baughan, fearing further retribution, declined to identify those involved or to pursue the matter. Dr Balmain ‘proffered’ legal advice (some historians considered Balmain threatened Baughan with obstruction of justice should he not progress the matter ). After some days, four names were eventually given up. When the governor issued the arrest warrants, the military was further enraged at Balmain’s “shamefully malevolent interference in the affairs of the Corps”. One of the warrants was for the arrest of Theophilus Feutrill.

As the military were responsible for enacting the arrest warrants, Captain John Macarthur approached the governor and stalled the process. Thus began a test of strength between the civil and military authorities. As Theophilus fretted over his fate—he was facing potential execution if found guilty—a series of letters was exchanged between Judge Advocate Balmain (representing the civil authority) and Captain John Macarthur (representing the military). Tempers frayed and insults given to the point that Balmain told Macarthur he was “a base rascal and an atrocious liar and villain”. Balmain then challenged Macarthur to a duel, which was subsequently withdrawn.

Captain Macarthur approached the Governor in the name of the Corps and was “expressive of their contrition, their sincere concern for what had happened, promising at the same time that they would endeavour by their future conduct to wipe away the odium which this recent instance of disorder and want of respect for the laws, the peace, and order of the settlement had brought upon them; they also agreed to indemnify the sufferer for his loss.” Upon receiving this message from Macarthur, and by the personal petition of the sufferer, John Baughan, the governor ordered the warrants to be withdrawn as “the consequences would otherwise most probably have been fatal to some.”

Peace was restored, but the Duke of Portland saw Hunter’s capitulation as weakness in his leadership.

John Hunter was recalled to London in a stern dispatch from Portland dated 5 November 1799. The withdrawal was acknowledged by Hunter on 20 April 1800, and he handed over the government to Lieutenant-Governor King on 28 September.

Why was Theophilus Feutrill’s name included on the arrest warrant? The Governor wanted the members of the military to come forward and give up the names of the ring leaders. But it appears unlikely that a private soldier would have the compelling presence or authority to whip up “all off-duty military members” to such an action. Was he, and the other privates listed just scapegoats, or were they more involved? The records are silent, but it is easy to imagine the relief he and his wife Ann would have felt upon hearing the warrants were withdrawn.

**

‘More Than I Ever Had’, based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill, is available from independent booksellers in Sydney and Amazon.

NSW History Week – Day 2 part III

Duelling personalities: Part III

In support of NSW History Week 2022, here is part III of the second of five stories (presented in three parts) that formed the basis of my research for my novel More Than I Ever Had. This book is based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill, who enlisted in the New South Wales Corps in 1789 in Birmingham.

Duel number three: Paterson v Macarthur 1801. Petty grievances

An article published in the Australian Star in September 1896, recounts a long-winded story about Sydney’s “first duel”*. It says “The whole affair is contained in the correspondence, official and private, and the tediousness is entirely due to the childish tetchiness, the elaborate slyness and the queer prolixity of many of the persons concerned. These were almost every individual of any station in the little community in the year 1801 of the occurrence.”

I’ll boil down the story as much as I can, but the whole issue begins with a drowning enroute to New South Wales. The drowned man’s effects were taken by the naval agent, Lieutenant Marshall, who replaced them with inferior products. Lieutenant John Macarthur—who was the temporary officer commanding the New South Wales Corps, in the absence of Colonel William Paterson—became aware of the swindle and took the matter up. The Governor severely reprimanded Lieutenant Marshall and sent him back to England on the next whaler. The article writes: “Marshall, resenting Macarthur’s action in the matter, thereupon found means to insult Captain Macarthur, who promptly sent Captain Abbott, of his corps, with a challenge. Lieutenant Marshall accepted.”

The problem was that Lieut. Marshall named a Mr Jefferies (purser of the Cornwallis) as his second. Macarthur was “up to his eyes in trade in spirits and every other commodity” so he ‘loftily objected’ and he would “by no means recognise (Jefferies) as second to his adversary.” Marshall duly attended the duel at the specified time and place, but Macarthur kept away. Enraged, Marshall “provided himself with a cudgel and went in search of (Macarthur).” Marshall found Captain Abbott in the doorway to Macarthur’s office, and he “dealt Captain Abbott a lusty thump on the ribs” then went in pursuit of Macarthur. When approached, Macarthur “(drew) his sword, (and) threatened to run the angry lieutenant through the body.” Marshall was arrested and taken to the guard-house.

Governor King then ordered that Lieut. Marshall should be tried by criminal court for assault against Abbott and Macarthur. By this time, Colonel Paterson had returned and “the court was property constituted with him, four other officers of the NSW Corps, Lieut. Grant and the Judge Advocate.” Whilst the case against Marshall for his “shady transaction with respect to the personal effects of the (drowned person)”, was straightforward, “Macarthur’s refusal to meet Lieut. Marshall in a duel appears to have been…impertinent, inasmuch as according to Governor King, he subsequently entertained at dinner at his own house, in company with Captain Abbott, the very man on whose selection as second to Lieutenant Marshall he alleged his disinclination to appear in the field.” Marshall “took objection to the constitution of the court” being made up of NSW Corpsmen, which was denied. Whilst Governor King did not intervene during the trial (Marshall was found guilty and sentenced to 12 months prison), he was provided with a record of the proceedings where there was “little doubt that the proceedings were conducted with distinct animus against the prisoner.” The Governor considered the appeal of the prisoner rested “on grounds solid enough to require serious attention. He instructed the court reconvene to investigate the allegations “not only to defend its own integrity, but to afford the most unequivocal justice to the prisoner…” The members of the court met, but refused to comply and “immediately dispersed.” The Governor said that he would “bring the business under the notice of the Secretary of State, and ask for support of his authority.” The five military members of the court wrote a letter asking for a copy of Marshall’s protest. The Governor refused, as the five military members were only a part of the seven member court. This pitted the five military members against the two others, and the officers “got savage and rather desperate. They agreed amongst themselves to cut the Governor socially. But this course proved too compromising (for) Colonel Paterson (who) quietly seceded. He resumed his ordinary relations with the Governor. Macarthur was furious.”

And this is where things become petty and dangerous.

Macarthur “threw the obligations of military discipline to the winds. He cast aside the obligations of a gentleman. He divulged private conversations with the colonel, he disclosed confidential communications. He stooped so low as to exhibit a private and familiar letter from Mrs Paterson to Mrs Macarthur. The fact was that the colonel had not been at all guarded in his demeanour and acts with relation to the Governor. He had criticised. He had sneered. He had even …(written)…to Sir Joseph Banks and General Brownrigg attacking the Governor’s public character and transactions. Macarthur had participated in these indiscretions. There are indications that he had instigated them. He now threw the burden of them on his colonel.” Colonel Paterson responded by doubling-down on his relationship with the Governor, and sent Macarthur a challenge.

The duel took place—Colonel Paterson chose Captain McKellar as his second, Macarthur chose Captain Piper. A scandal occurred when contrary to “all the proprieties” Macarthur was permitted to load his own pistols, rather than his second, which was the proper course of action. Macarthur asserted “there was something the matter with the locks (on his) pistols (and) it wasn’t safe for anyone unacquainted with their peculiarities to wad them…” Captain Piper, Macarthur’s second, won the toss for first shot.

The combatants stood at a distance and side-on, to make themselves as small a target as possible. Macarthur had first shot and “it took effect in the Colonel’s right shoulder. He was disabled and could not return the fire. A week later, his life was not out of danger. The Governor, of course, heard of the affair” and arrest warrants were issued to all those involved (except for the wounded man, Colonel Paterson).

The pettiness continued.

The Governor ordered Macarthur to Norfolk Island, but Macarthur refused to be released from prison. He demanded “reasons for being put under arrest…and for being ordered out of arrest.” Correspondence “hailed on everybody and from everybody, and a regular devil’s brew of cavils, assertions and explanations bubbled in a joint stock pot. Surgeons, adjutants, chaplain, judge advocate, surveyor, ensigns, lieutenants, captains, all had a finger in the mess. The Governor, while yet the pot was in full boil, got rid of Lieutenant Marshall…(by) shipping him off to be dealt with in England. As Macarthur positively would not be ordered out of arrest, he was got rid of in the same fashion, fighting tooth and nail to the last hour, and very nearly managing to bring about a small insurrection by treating his detachment of New South Wales Corps to a dinner and grog, such grog being removed from store without a permit, intercepted and seized by the officer of the guard, and all but violently rescued by the soldiery for whose benefit it had been intended.”

Whilst Macarthur was shipped off to England, he returned and was embroiled in the Rum Rebellion of 1808, but that, of course, is another story 😊

*Sydney’s first duel was, of course, between Captain William Hill and Major Robert Ross, fought on Sydney soil on 12 December 1791.

**

‘More Than I Ever Had’ based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill is available from independent booksellers in Sydney and from Amazon. Link to Amazon Australia site here.

NSW History Week – Day 2

Duelling personalities: Part I

In support of NSW History Week 2022, here is the second of five stories (presented in three parts) that formed the basis of my research for my novel More Than I Ever Had. This book is based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill, who enlisted in the New South Wales Corps in 1789 in Birmingham.

In eighteenth century England, duelling—that is an arranged shooting between two people for the sake of honour—was against the law, and to kill in the course of a duel was judged as murder. However, it was widely practiced by the male members of ‘nobility’ and the upper classes where one’s honour needed to be restored. The conduct of a duel is at the combatant’s discretion and mutal agreement—they could stand back to back and walk ten paces and turn and shoot; they could start at opposite ends of a clearing and walk towards each other with pistols held in arms outstretched and shoot, or they could stand at a prescribed distance and toss for who gets to shoot first. A constant requirement is that the combatants must have seconds, whose job it is to load the pistols, and confer with each other as representatives of the combatants. A neutral person makes a signal for the duel to commence.

In Bilston, the west-midlands of England, where Theo was raised in the mining and manufacturing community, he would not have witnessed any duels. But he didn’t have to wait long after he boarded the Neptune to watch his first. In fact, the Neptune hadn’t even left English waters before tempers spilled over and someone’s ‘honour’ needed to be restored. And, there were at least two more held in Sydney in the very early days of settlement, one involving the ambitious and fiery John Macarthur (he was also involved in the first one), and one involving Theo’s captain, Captain William Hill.

Duel number one: Macarthur v Gilbert 1789. Tempers on board

Ambitious and newly promoted, Lieutenant John Macarthur boarded the Neptune, with his wife and young son, to sail to New South Wales as part of the NSW Corps. As the ship pulled away from Woolwich Wharf, he, and other members of the military, soon realised they had no status on the ship, being under the complete control of the ship’s captain, Captain Thomas Gilbert, and his crew. And, worse, Captain Gilbert and his crew had little regard for the comfort and welfare of the passengers. Macarthur’s bitter complaints to the captain about the quarters provided to him and his family were disregarded, which led to a blazing confrontation. The Sydney Morning Herald published an article, in February 1945, which recounted the following story:

“The casus belli between Macarthur and John (sic) Gilbert, the captain of the ship, arose from the former’s complaints regarding the location and fittings of his cabin, and ‘the stench of the buckets belonging to the convict women of a’morning.’ Gilbert threatened to write to the War Office and have Macarthur and his wife turned out of the ship. Gilbert gave Macarthur a punch on the breast. Nepean interfered and patched up the quarrel temporarily…..On the seven days trip round to Plymouth there was another flare-up, Macarthur accusing the captain of ungentlemanly conduct towards himself and his wife, and calling him publicly on the quarter-deck—he had a fine capacity for vituperation—‘a great scoundrel’. In retaliation, Gilbert told Macarthur that he had ‘settled many a greater man than him’, and that he was to be seen on shore, whereupon Macarthur named 4 o’clock at the Fountain Tavern, Plymouth Docks. They met, a duel was fought—apparently a bloodless one—honour was satisfied and both parties agreed to live in harmony thereafter.”

Theo and his brother soldiers would have gathered nearby to watch the duel, hoping ‘their’ Macarthur would prevail, but wondering whether they were about to witness someone being shot dead.

Despite Macarthur and Gilbert declaring a truce, the harmony was not to last, with both parties continuing to quarrel. Whilst the ship was laying over at Plymouth, Captain Nicholas Nepean took the opportunity to write to his brother Evan Nepean who was Under Secretary of State in the Home Department, complaining about the ship’s captain. By the time the ship docked at Portsmouth, a replacement for Captain Gilbert was waiting. Whilst the replacement captain was a welcome sight for all on board, he proved to be even more heartless, causing Elizabeth Macarthur to write in her diary that Captain Gilbert was a “perfect sea-monster.” The situation onboard became intolerable for the Macarthur family to the point where they arranged to be transferred mid-ocean to the Scarborough. Theo wasn’t as fortunate.

**

‘More Than I Ever Had’ based on the true story of Theophilus Feutrill is available through independent booksellers in Sydney and from Amazon. Link to Amazon Australia site here.