Capture of the Harrington, 1808

During Australia’s dark convict past, scores of vessels, large and small, were seized or stolen and taken out to sea by convicts determined to escape.   Many were never heard of again and were thought to have been lost at sea.   One lesser-known escape was that made by Robert Stewart and a gang of convicts who seized the 180-ton brig Harrington in Sydney Harbour.  They made it as far as the Philippines before their luck ran out.   This is their fascinating story.

Robert Stewart was no typical petty criminal from England’s underclasses.   He came from a comfortable but modest middle-class family, but Stewart harboured ambitions to enjoy the wealth and privileges that others “higher-born” took for granted.    Born around 1771, his father died when he was ten, and a year later, his mother enrolled him into the Royal Mathematical Institution.  There, he joined the ranks of boys learning maths and celestial navigation, preparing them for apprenticeships in the merchant marine or Royal Navy.    On graduating, Stewart could have anticipated a respectable and rewarding career that would one day see him master of his own ship.   However, his rebellious streak got him into trouble before he ever completed his studies.

In June 1785, he was expelled for repeatedly running away.   Stewart then joined the Navy as an ordinary seaman and over the next 12 years rose to the rank of Petty Officer.  But he deserted in 1798 aged 27, likely embittered that he would never be promoted into the officer ranks.   Three years later he was in court answering fraud and forgery charges.   Stewart had purchased goods while posing as a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy and paid for them with a forged cheque.   Caught, charged and found guilty, he was sentenced to transportation for life and sent to Van Diemen’s Land.

Stewart arrived in Hobart on the Calcutta in 1803 and stayed out of trouble for a while.   But then, twice, he tried escaping by seizing small colonial vessels.   Both times ended in dismal failure and return to Hobart to face punishment.   He only narrowly avoided a death sentence, and in 1808, he was sent to Sydney to serve a period of hard labour.  

But he never gave up hope of regaining his freedom.   This time, he had his eye on the Harrington anchored in Sydney Cove.   She had recently returned from China after delivering a cargo of Fijian sandalwood.   So lucrative was the trade that the Harrington’s captain was set to do it again.   The ship was stocked with enough supplies to last the crew several months and was to sail any day.  

Around 10 p.m. on the night of 15 May 1808, Stewart led as many as thirty fellow convicts out to the waiting ship in two stolen boats.   They came alongside as quietly as possible so as not to alert anyone standing sentry. But when Stewart climbed over the side, he found he had the deck to himself.    The rest of the men swarmed over the gunwales.   Some went forward to secure the crew.   Others went aft to take care of the officers.    The Harrington’s Chief Officer, Arnold Fisk, woke to the sight of Stewart holding a pistol to his head.   The brig’s captain and owner could not be found, for he had gone ashore earlier that day.   As Stewart and the others took control of the ship, the captain was blissfully asleep in his home overlooking Sydney Harbour.

With the ship’s company under guard, the convicts cut away the anchors and used the two stolen boats to tow the Harrington the length of Sydney Harbour.   Once outside the Heads, they unfurled the sails and headed out to sea.     By 7 a.m., they were about 20 nautical miles (40 kilometres) off the coast.

Stewart ordered the crew into the two boats so they could make their way back to Sydney.   They pulled into Sydney Cove later that afternoon to learn the alarm had already been raised.   Earlier that morning, Captain Campbell had cast his eyes across the Harbour to find his ship was nowhere to be found.

When a ship, the Pegasus, was finally organised to go in pursuit, Stewart had a three-day head start.   The Pegasus cruised the islands of Fiji and then sailed on to Tonga before returning to Sydney via New Caledonia.  She spent nine weeks searching for the Harrington and came up empty-handed.   For a time, it looked as if Robert Stewart and his band of bolters had made good their escape.   Then, the Harrington was spotted in the Philippines. Stewart had sailed nearly 8,000 kilometres north when HMS Dedaigneuse intercepted the vessel and sent a boarding party across to investigate.   By then, the Harrington was flying American colours, and Stewart presented the officer with papers purporting the ship to be of American origin.    The forged documents did not hold up to close scrutiny, and the vessel was seized.   Stewart, now calling himself Robert Bruce Keith Stuart, was taken across to the frigate while the rest of the convicts were locked in the Harrington’s hold, now under the command of a British naval officer and a prize crew.   

Shortly thereafter, the Harrington ran aground off the island of Luzon.   Most of the convicts were reported to have got ashore where they fled on foot.   However, there is some evidence to suggest that their “escape” might have been fabricated, and they were actually press-ganged into Royal Navy service.   

Stewart, on the other hand, had a much easier time of it.   He portrayed himself as a victim of circumstances to the Dedaigneuse’s captain and received considerable leniency in his treatment.   Stewart spoke and carried himself in a gentleman-like manner, professed to have enjoyed a liberal education and that he had connections to some of Britain’s most prestigious families. He claimed to have once been a lieutenant in the Royal Navy before he fell victim to the penal system.  

Captain Dawson allowed Stewart “every reasonable indulgence and forbade to place him under personal restraint.”    That was until Stewart almost escaped.   After that, he was placed under close confinement.   Stewart was eventually delivered to British officials in India, where he continued masquerading as a gentleman needing help rather than the escaped convict that he was.  

He could not hide the fact that he had committed an offence that had seen him transported to New South Wales.   Instead, he fabricated a preposterous story about his conviction.    Stewart claimed he had eloped with a young lady from a very respectable but unnamed family.   But, after they were secretly wed, a junior Baronet who also had desires for the lady broke into their apartment.   Stewart said he had shot and injured the man in what he described as an affair of honour.   Stewart said he had been unfairly found guilty of attempted murder and sent to New South Wales.   That sounded much better than being caught passing a forged cheque.   His tale garnered much sympathy from the colonial administrators in Calcutta.   Even the Chief Magistrate championed Stewart’s cause, penning a letter to his superior suggesting he should be released.  

But then, in August 1809, Stewart’s time ran out.   The British officials could not ignore that he was a fugitive from justice, and the Governor General ordered him to be returned to Sydney.   He was placed onboard a ship bound for Australia, but before it sailed, Stewart went missing.   At first, the captain claimed he had jumped overboard and likely drowned, but it later transpired he had been whisked away in a boat by one of his many admirers and taken back to Calcutta.

So, Robert Stewart may have escaped justice and settled in India under yet another assumed name.  One thing is sure: he never returned to New South Wales to serve out his sentence.   Nor did he face punishment for masterminding the seizure of the brig Harrington.

© Copyright C.J. Ison / Tales from the Quarterdeck, 2024.

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