Bolters, part 6 of many

The curious tale of Samuel Burt

Burt had been found guilty of forgery, and forgery was a hanging offence, a capital crime, as the lawyers say. Mysteriously (until you know the background), the government wanted Burt to accept a reprieve and a sentence of seven years as a prisoner.

Equally mysteriously (again, until you know the background), the prisoner asked to be hanged, and here is how the discussion went in court, at the end of a long day’s proceedings. Notice how politely but firmly, Samuel Burt told the Court (that means the judge) that he wanted to die. [1]

The judge was probably weary after hearing cases and sentencing the guilty all day, but he had this one more task. He needed to persuade this young man to choose going to Botany Bay over being hanged. The youth had already refused one offer of the King’s mercy.

Prisoner:        My Lord, I thank your Lordship; but in the present case, I have an unquestionable right to my own opinion, and as death would be preferable to me, I am determined to persevere in applying for the execution of my sentence.

Court:             You should be aware that if the King’s mercy is rejected and abused, when you come to a better temper of mind, which the fear of death will certainly produce, you may have then no opportunity of applying for that mercy which you now refuse.

Prisoner:        I am still determined to persevere in the same opinion.

Court:             I shall remand you to prison, and give you till the first day of next session to consider of it, and if you then refuse his Majesty’s pardon, you may expect immediate execution.

Prisoner.        Very well my Lord.

Now here is the background: Samuel loved a young lady, but she did not love him enough to agree to marry him. Perhaps this was because he was an apprentice gold-beater, and apprentices were not allowed to marry until they had “served their time” and completed their apprenticeships.

Whatever the reason, Samuel decided that he would sooner die, but he must have felt it was wrong to commit suicide. He was clearly an educated young man who found another way to become dead, a cunning scheme, which as cunning schemes often do, back-fired.

He forged a bank draft for 100 pounds, which was a great deal of money in those days. He then went to a bank where he was well-known, and cashed the draft. The bank suspected that the document was forged, but gave him the money because they knew him. He then sent his master the following letter:

“Sir, I take this opportunity of informing you, that I have this morning forged on your banker, for the sum of an hundred pounds; I am ready and willing to resign myself into the hands of justice, life is a burden to me, and as I have forfeited it to the laws of my country, I am ready and willing to resign into the hands of him that gave it me.” S. Burt, July 17th, 1786.

Later, the full story came out in The Times on 19 October 1790:

The circumstances of Burt’s case were rather remarkable; being rejected by a woman whom he wished to marry, he committed a forgery, and immediately afterwards surrendered himself at Bow-street, declaring to his friends that he had done it for the purpose of getting hanged. Being considered as an object of compassion, he was offered his Majesty’s most gracious pardon, which he twice or thrice refused. The lady at length consented to marry him; he then became as solicitous to live as he had before been for death; but during her repeated visits to him in Newgate, she caught the gaol fever and died. [2]

By the time she died, Samuel’s case had been settled, and he had to go to New South Wales. The transport Scarborough had carried convicts as part of the First Fleet, and now the ship was ready to go again, with Burt among the inmates. During the voyage, a plot was hatched by some of the convicts to over-power the guards, take control of the ship and escape. Burt gathered the details and reported it to the ship’s officers who squashed the plan.

Arriving in Sydney, he became a storeman, and was so reliable that on 31 January 1794, he was given an unconditional pardon, When the colony’s Judge-Advocate, David Collins noted this, he mentioned that Burt’s actions on the Scarborough were “at the risk of his own life”. [3]

I have to wonder: did Burt take that risk deliberately, hoping once again, that he might die? We will never know, but he reached Sydney, he lived, he worked hard, and he was pardoned. He received a grant of 16 acres of land at Bulanaming (near Newtown in Sydney’s inner western suburbs today) on 8 January 1794, but after that, he seems to have disappeared. If he has descendants today, they probably regret not being able to claim descent from a “First Fleeter”. [4]

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[1] Samuel Burt’s tale can be found at ‘Old Bailey Online’, http://www.oldbaileyonline.org. The original trial reference number is t17860719-31, his refusal has the reference number o17870110-3 and his pardon is at o17870221-2.

[2] The Times, 19 October, 1790, 4, column 1.

[3] David Collins, An Account of the English Colony in NSW, volume 1, 286.

[4] One source for information says that Burt’s grant was recorded on Fiche 3267 of the Colonial Secretary’s papers. These are now generally on microfilm and in many libraries. I found the entry in my local library, on the first page of the B’s, on Roll 2560.