Cassandra Esten Austen: Naval Child during the Napoleonic Wars

A girl born to a genteel Georgian family in England would likely be raised in a comfortable home, supported by parents and servants, and provided with all that she needed. Her predictable upbringing would include the security of a familiar, local community in which she could find appropriate playmates and would receive the respect due to her father.[1] Cassandra (Cassy) Esten Austen’s childhood was different. On account of her father’s career in the British navy during the Napoleonic Wars, Cassy moved between the North American port towns of St George’s, Bermuda and Halifax, Nova Scotia, travelling back and forth by sailing ship, despite the hazards of attack by enemy vessels or shipwreck by ocean storms. In 1811, she made the dangerous voyage across the Atlantic and then lived on a working naval vessel, stationed off the cost of England. Here is her story.

Cassy, the first child of Fanny and Charles Austen, was born in St George’s, Bermuda on 22 December 1808. She was first described in a letter that her ecstatic father wrote to his sister, Cassandra Austen, in England soon after her birth. He reported: “The Baby besides being the finest that ever was seen is really a good looking healthy young Lady of very large dimensions and as fat as butter.”[2] At the time, Charles was a naval lieutenant in command of a sloop of war, HMS Indian (18 guns) in service on the North American Station. He had met and married Fanny Palmer in Bermuda, where her father had been the expatriate Attorney General.

 From a very young age Cassy experienced the peripatetic nature of naval life. In the autumn of 1809, the Indian needed extensive repairs at the Halifax Naval Yard. Charles’s family accompanied him on the voyage from Bermuda to deliver the vessel for this purpose. Cassy’s presence in Halifax and her connection to the navy became a matter of public record when she was baptised at St Paul’s Anglican church, Halifax, on 6 October 1809. The service was performed by the naval chaplain, Rev. Robert Stanser, and two of her sponsors,[3] Captain Edward Hawker of HMS Melampus and Esther Esten, one of Cassy’s aunts, were able to attend. The record of her baptism specifies her father’s rank, citing him as “Capt. Charles John Austen Royal Navy.”

Fig. 1: St Paul’s Church, Halifax, Nova Scotia[4]

Fig.2: Entry of Cassy Austen’s Baptism (on the bottom line) in the Church Records  

That autumn was also notable for the family’s horrific voyage in the Indian whilst returning to Bermuda from Halifax after the vessel’s repairs were completed. It was late November and winter on the North Atlantic. Just out of Halifax, the Indian was caught in a fearful storm of “strong gales, sleet and snow.” The logbook recorded “the gales increased” and “the ship was labouring and shipping heavy seas.”[5] These matter-of-fact remarks belie the ferocious nature of the storm and the awful risk of sinking. The Indian, after the harrowing journey, limped into Bermuda after fifteen days at sea, twice the usual time. Cassy must have been terrified by this experience. She would make other sea voyages between Halifax and Bermuda before she was three years old, and she would face the rigours of a transatlantic crossing in mid 1811. In addition to the hazards of sea voyages, Cassy was not a happy traveller. During an eight day passage from Bermuda to Halifax in 1810, her mother regretfully recorded that “poor little Cass was very sick.”[6]

Fig 3: HMS Cleopatra in a Storm[7]

Cassy lived in Halifax again in 1810 when her father began service on HMS Swiftsure (50 guns) as flag captain for Admiral Sir John Borlase Warren. On arrival from Bermuda, Cassy was housed on shore with her parents in the Admiral’s residence situated at the north end of the busy Halifax Naval Yard. By then her personality traits were becoming apparent: she gave evidence of vigour and independence. Fanny described her 17-month-old daughter as “so riotous and unmanageable, that I can do nothing with her.”[8] Ever practical, Fanny decided to dress her child in “short frocks and pantaloons for she is such a romp.”[9]

For four warm summer months Cassy enjoyed her new situation in Halifax. Popular with her host, Lady Warren, who was apparently “very fond of … little Cassy,”[10] the child had, in addition to the attentions of her mother, the services of a maid, Molly. Cassy’s company had an added importance for Fanny during the ten weeks Charles was away on a mission, delivering troops to a war zone off the coast of Portugal. When there was no word of the Swiftsure’s progress, Fanny became increasingly anxious. Cassy provided a distraction, a ready subject for affection and care, and her cheerful presence helped Fanny get through a worrying period of separation from Charles.  

Cassy’s place in her father’s naval world was dependent on the ship into which he was commissioned and the station on which he was serving. Her first naval associations had been with the North American Station, but by mid 1811 the family was in England. Shortly after arrival, Charles unexpectedly lost the command of the frigate, HMS Cleopatra (32 guns) and, as a result, he and his family were cast on shore on half pay.

Fortuitously, about this time his former commander and family friend, Admiral Sir Thomas Williams,[11] was appointed Commander in Chief at the Nore. He asked Charles to be his flag captain. For Cassy this meant another big change in her lifestyle. She was to live on board HMS Namur (74 guns), a working naval vessel riding at anchor 3 miles north-east from Sheerness, Kent.[12] Cassy, together with her sister, Harriet Jane, born in February 1810, found themselves in a new home with unusual features.

The family’s living space was the captain’s quarters which occupied the width of the ship in the stern on the quarterdeck and under the poop deck. The spacious captain’s cabin was a very pleasant room, with its extensive view of the anchorage and the ships passing by. However, it was also a place of business for Charles so the children did not have unlimited access. Fortunately, there were other spaces to inhabit. A sleeping cabin next to the captain’s cabin may have been used by all the family so that Cassy and Harriet would have the comfort of being close to their parents overnight. The dining room, situated across from the sleeping cabin, was sometimes the site of family meals. The rest of the quarters would have had multiple uses, such as storage for books and family possessions, space for makeshift accommodation for the occasional visitor, and a useful place for spinning tops and playing children’s games. An armed marine stood on guard continuously at the entrance to the captain’s quarters, another unique feature of living on board as part of his family.  

Cassy was confined to the family quarters while aboard the Namur, but access to the exposed poop deck above made pleasurable perambulations possible. Not only was this a healthy undertaking in the bracing sea air, but the poop deck afforded a panoramic view of the ship at work. Men could be seen working aloft on the sails and masts or scrubbing the deck. Others took receipt of shipments of provisions delivered by a barge sent from the Sheerness Dock Yard. Periodically red-coated marines could be seen drilling on the upper deck, or men “pressed” into naval service were visible as they were received on board before assignment to a particular ship. Cassy might also listen to her father being piped aboard after a meeting on shore with Admiral Williams. In the background she heard the cries of swooping gulls and the sound of the channel buoys over the perpetual creaking of the ship and the whistle of the wind in the riggings.

Sometimes Cassy left the Namur for visits to her Austen and Palmer relatives on land in Hampshire, Kent, and London. On these occasions, she disembarked in a bosun’s chair - a plank seat with canvas surrounds slung by ropes and pulleys from the ship. Secure in a parent’s arms, then swung over the side of the Namur, she was lowered into the ship’s tender, which would take her ashore, - surely a heady adventure for a naval child.  

Cassy was devoted to her parents and her sisters, Harriet and little Fan, born in December 1812, and was happiest when with them, but it became increasingly clear that the benefits of family life on the Namur were outweighed by her sufferings when the ship’s motion in rough seas triggered severe and prolonged bouts of sea sickness.[13] Adding to this problem were the discomforts of exposure to frigid weather at sea in winter. So Cassy’s parents decided that she should periodically leave the family circle and stay on land with her aunts, Jane and Casandra at Chawton Cottage and Harriet in London. The aunts welcomed her, though it meant more changes in her home life.   

Cassy’s story reveals one child’s experiences growing up in a naval community. Some circumstances of her family life were favourable to her well being and development, others were less productive of comfort and pleasure. Cassy was able to grow up in a stable and caring family because her parents determined to keep all its members together as far as possible. Rather than leave her in Bermuda on the two occasions when Charles’s career required him to stay in Halifax, Cassy and her mother came along as well. Once in England in 1811, instead of Fanny and the children living on shore, as many naval families did, the Charles Austens chose to establish an “aquatic abode,” as Cassandra Austen called it, on the Namur. Thus, Cassy was spared separation from her parents during most of her early formative years. Additionally, Cassy mixed with a variety of naval folk, including the officers under her father’s command, as well as the Admirals he served under - John Warren and Thomas Williams - together with their wives. She was introduced at a very young age to adult company and social life. Cassy was also exposed to a variety of climates, landscapes, towns and cities in North America and England, and she must have begun to observe the diversity of nature and human life. She was gaining views of the wider world.

Other aspects of Cassy’s naval lifestyle were difficult. She was plagued with sea sickness. Not only did her parents grieve to see her so discomforted but they were concerned that her early education would suffer. Additionally, she lacked the advantage of a steady land-based home in a familiar neighbourhood. To a sense of instability may be added loneliness. Once on the Namur Cassy may have found the captain’s quarter too confining. There was no scope for running about outside; the lack of other children, apart from her younger sisters, conceivably added to a feeling of isolation. Such was Cassy Austen’s early childhood, far removed from the predictable norms for a girl of her station in Georgian life, yet revealing of a naval family’s existence during the Napoleonic Wars as experienced from a child’s point of view.

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[1] Cassy’s first cousin, Caroline Austen (1805-1880), daughter of her uncle, James Austen, had a similar lifestyle.

[2] Charles Austen to his sister, Cassandra, 25 December 1808. See Sheila Johnson Kindred, Jane Austen’s Transatlantic Sister (hereafter JATS), MQUP, 2017, 2018, 216.

[3] The other sponsor was her aunt, Cassandra Austen, in England.

[4] Attributed to Amelia Almon Ritchie and thought to be a copy of a watercolour of the same scene by Halifax artist, William Eagar (1796-1839), who taught Amelia Ritchie drawing.

[5] The Indian’s Logbook, 29 November 1809, ADM 51/1991.

[6] Fanny Austen to her sister Esther, 1 June 1810. See JATS, 52.

[7] Cassy crossed the Atlantic in HMS Cleopatra in 1811. This image depicts the ship’s struggles in a severe storm in 1814 when Charles was no longer her captain.

[8] Fanny to Esther, 1 June 1810, See JATS, 52.

[9] Fanny to Esther, 23 September 1810. See JATS, 68.

[10] Fanny to Esther, 1 June 1810. See JATS, 53.

[11] Charles had served under Thomas Williams on HMS Unicorn (32 guns) and HMS Endymion (44 guns).

[12] The Namur had had an illustrious career in the sea service. She had seen action in numerous battles: Louisburg (1758), Lagos (1759), Havana (1762), and Ortegal (1805). Now she was the guard ship at the Nore and a receiving ship for sailors waiting to be deployed to naval vessels fitting out in the Thames and Medway rivers.

[13] As Jane explained to Cassandra, Fanny and Charles “do not consider the Namur as disagreeing with [Cassy] in general - only when the Weather is so rough as to make her sick.” Jane to Cassandra, Letter # 94, 26 October 1813. 

The Capture of the Jeune Estelle, Charles Austen’s Premier Prize

Dear Readers,
I am happy to be backing blogging again.
Continue to stay safe.
Sheila

During the Napoleonic wars, the mission of the North American squadron of the Royal Navy was to disrupt enemy trade and to protect British and colonial commercial activities. The British ships were expected to engage enemy warships and armed privateers in combat and to apprehend merchant ships transporting enemy trade goods and supplies. As an incentive for this dangerous work, the officers and men of the British ship that captured an enemy vessel or merchant man were offered the prospect of receiving a share of the value of the vessel and/or its cargo. The legitimacy of the capture, according to the law of prize, had to be proven in a Vice Admiralty court. The court had the power to condemn the capture as lawful prize and to order its sale by public auction. The resulting prize money, less costs, would be distributed among all those aboard the British vessel at the time of capture, in proportions and according to rank. Prize taking was a chancy but significant perk of naval conflict.

While serving on the North American station, Charles Austen had the good fortune to capture or co-capture thirteen vessels, at least eight of which provided him with prize money. The records for these cases are very incomplete but the account of the seizure and condemnation of the French privateer, La Jeune Estelle (4 guns), reveals a nearly complete anatomy of a prize case. This capture was Charles’s most valuable prize, according to existing records. Here is how the business proceeded from the moment of capture to the distribution of prize money. 

On 19 June 1808 Charles was cruising off the coast of South Carolina in his sloop of war, HMS Indian (18 guns) when, as reported in the ship’s log, “a strange sail [was] sighted.” Immediately, the Indian went into action. According to Charles’s official report of the event, it became a vigorous encounter. The Indian’s chase guns were fired, killing one Frenchman and wounding another.[1] Eventually, after a tense chase of 1½ hours, the Indian “hove to, boarded and took possession of the [vessel].”[2] She proved to be the French schooner, La Jeune Estelle, enroute from St Mary’s River (near St Augustine’s, Florida) to the French colony of St Domingo, with a crew of 25. She carried a cargo of mixed supplies.[3]

Fig. 1: HMS Atalante, sister ship to Indian (18 guns). The Indian captured the Jeune Estelle at latitude 32 degrees north and longitude 68 degrees west.

Charles was required to continue his mission at sea, but he sent “a lieutenant, master’s mate and midshipman with 20 men to navigate [the prize] to Bermuda”[4] where proceedings before the Vice Admiralty Court followed swiftly. James Christie Esten (Charles’s brother-in-law) acted as Advocate General for the crown’s claim to the vessel and cargo, and, since they were unquestionably enemy property, it is not surprising that on 25 July the court ruled to condemn both as the lawful prize of the Indian, its captor.[5]

Charles had sent the prize to Bermuda because part of her cargo included perishable foodstuffs such as “superfine flour, pork, beef, fish, herrings, bread, cheese, lard, pease and hams.” She also carried “soap, tallow, oil in baskets, small shot, pig iron, a new cable, two hawsers,” and an unspecified amount of claret in casks.[6] According to a notice in the Bermuda Gazette, the agents acting for Charles were Edward Goodrich and Archibald Snedden of Bermuda, while George R. Hulbert represented the interests of Admiral Warren, Charles’s commander-in-chief, and Austen and Maunde in London were Charles’s bankers, the Austen being Charles’s brother, Henry.

The cargo was sold at the premises of Edward Goodrich in St George’s, Bermuda for the gross sum of £2539.11s. 4d. in Bermuda currency.[7] Charles must have been delighted to eventually learned how well the sale had gone.

Fig.2: The Home of Charles’s Bermuda Prize Agent, Edward Goodrich

Fig. 3: An Auction of Prize Goods, known as a Vendue.

The vessel, the Jeune Estelle, was, as expected, also sold because the eventual payout notice in the Bermuda Gazette refers to “a distribution of the net proceeds of the said vessel and cargo.” Unfortunately, there is no record of the price it fetched though it must have been of some value as the prize crew from the Indian were able to navigate it to Bermuda after the capture.  

Yet before there could be any distribution of prize money, a large number of expenses, inevitably incurred in the course of the condemnation and sale, had to be paid. Agent George Hulbert’s account book reveals the extent of these deductions.[8] James Esten, Advocate General before the court, received £50. Court charges were £28. 5s. 6d. Pilotage, the cost of delivering cargo after sale, the fee for customs house entry and custody, the cost of storage and wharfage, altogether amounted to £38. 16s. 11d. Other bills included £2. 13s. 4d. for hiring a cooper for 2½ days to repair flour casks, £3. 10s. for the recording of agency power, and £3. 6s. 8d. for advertisements in the Bermuda Gazette. The 5% duty payable to the Greenwich Hospital[9] amounted to £129. 19s. 6d and a like sum was charged as fees by the agents. The total costs, fees, and duties amounted to £380. 11s. 5d. The net fund of prize money for distribution was £2158. 19s. 11d. Once the claims were settled, the court ordered the distribution of the prize money and advertised to this effect in the Bermuda Gazette.

According to a prescribed formula, Charles, as Indian’s captain, received a ¼ share of the net proceeds, Admiral Warren received ⅛ share, and the officers and men received smaller shares according to their rank. Charles’s prize money amounted to £539. 16s. 11¾d.  plus, presumably, an unknown amount from the proceeds of the sale of the vessel. The total would have been a sizable sum for Charles compared with his annual salary of £246. 3s. 10d. as commander of a sloop of war.

Fig. 4: Payout Notice for the Jeune Estelle, 24 September 1808.

Charles’s benefits from the Jeune Estelle were not only personal and financial. The payout of prize money boosted the morale of his crew and lined their pockets with cash as well. The Indian’s recruitment notice in April 1805 had promised seamen they would win “plenty of Spanish doubloons and dollars”- that is prize money. Charles delivered on this promise.

Fig. 5: The Indian’s Recruitment Notice.

Moreover, his official report of the episode to Admiral Warren appeared on the front page of the London Gazette, 20-23 August 1808. This was pleasing publicity for him and gratifying for the Austen family at home in England to read public acknowledgement of Charles’s recent capture. Moreover, there was Fanny, who Charles described as “his lovely and beloved wife [who rejoiced] at all the good that befell me.”[10] Making Fanny happy always gave Charles great pleasure. The prize money from the Jeune Estelle was surely a means to this end.

Exploring the saga of the prize, the Jeune Estelle, yields a fascinating snapshot of a significant aspect of Charles Austen’s naval career on the North American Station.

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[1] Charles Austen to Admiral Sir John Warren, 27 June 1808, ADM 1/498/fol.283. The National Archives (TNA), Kew, London, England.

[2] See Indian’s logbook, 19 June 1808, ADM 51/1868, NA.

[3] In capturing La Jeune Estelle Charles was interfering with France’s attempt to support her colonies in the West Indies.

[4] The Indian’s logbook, 19 June 1808.

[5] List of Ships and Vessels Captured by His Majesty’s Ships of War and Brought to the Port of Bermuda for Adjudication from June 7th 1808 to the 18th  Day of May 1810, List of Prizes, VA 221,1-4, Bermuda Archives, Hamilton, Bermuda.

[6] Bermuda Gazette, 23 July 1808.

[7] In the currency used, “£” stands for pound, “s” for shilling, and “d” for penny. There were 20 shillings in a pound and 12 pence in a shilling. Bermuda currency fluctuated in relation to the British pound which was more valuable. 

[8] George Hulbert’s Cash Book 1808-1812, HUL/23, National Maritime Museum (NMM), Greenwich, London.

[9] The Greenwich Hospital at Greenwich, London, administered a pension fund for seamen wounded in naval service. 5 % of any distributed prize money was required to be contributed to this fund.

[10] Charles Austen’s Journal, 10 May 1815, AUS/102, NMM.

Charles Austen’s Colleague, Captain John Shortland: His Naval Service in Australia and North America

Captain John Shortland

Charles Austen began his career as a ship’s captain in North American waters in 1805. In the six years that followed he served with a variety of other young men hoping to succeed in their naval careers. While I was researching my biography of Fanny Palmer Austen, Charles’s wife, I became curious about his fellow officers. What were their backgrounds? What had been their successes and failure? This quest led me to Captain John Shortland (1769-1810), who worked quite closely with Charles Austen on the North American Station of the Royal Navy during 1808-1809. While recently in Australia, I learned much more about Shortland’s earlier career there. These new details contribute to a profile of a courageous but ill-fated officer. Here is his story.   

Hunter’s sketch of a wombat

 John Shortland went out to New South Wales from England on the First Fleet,[1] initially on the Friendship as 2nd mate, but transferred to the Sirius, Captain John Hunter, where he was promoted to master’s mate just before the vessel arrived in Sydney Cove on 26 January 1788. Shortland found himself in a land very different from England. Human contact was limited to the company of other naval personnel, British administrators and increasing numbers of arriving convicts. An impression of the exotic fauna of the place is provided by Captain John Hunter’s contemporary sketch book, which included images of a wombat[2] and a platypus along with drawings of birds, flowers and fish encountered in the environs of Port Jackson and Norfolk Island.[3] Shortland was free to explore this remarkable new land between his naval assignments on board the Sirius.

In January 1789, the Sirius was despatched to the Cape of Good Hope, where the crew   loaded foodstuffs and supplies at Table Bay and transported them back to New South Wales for the relief of the needy, fledgling colony at Port Jackson.  In 1790, still aboard the Sirius, he sailed to Norfolk Island as part of an exploratory group sent to determine the Island’s suitability for settlement. Soon after the party landed, the unlucky Sirius was thrown upon a reef of rocks and sank. Shortland was thus stranded on Norfolk Island for the next eleven months.

He returned to England in 1791 but went back to Australia again in 1795 as first Lieutenant on the Reliance. He accepted the posting at the invitation of his friend, John Hunter, who had just been appointed Governor of New South Wales. According to the “Memoir of the Public Services of Captain John Shortland” in the Naval Chronicle, 1810, he undertook his transfer into the Reliance with “utmost reluctance and regrets and afterwards he considered his removal  as the most unfortunate era of his life; as an event that banished him from the active scene which was opened by the [war with France].”[4] It seems that the challenges of exploration and colonization of Australia held less attraction than the chance to accrue prize money while the French war with Britain continued.  Nevertheless, he stayed with the Reliance for the next five years, making voyages to the Cape of Good Hope and New Zealand as well as one journey which has earned him a place in Australian history.

In a letter to his father, Captain John Shortland Sr. he described an “expedition on the Governor’s whaleboat about as far as Port Stephens, which lies 100 miles northward of this place [Port Jackson]. In my passage down I discovered a very fine coal river, [on 10 September 1797] which I named after Governor Hunter. … Vessels from 80 to 250 tons may load here with great ease, I dare say [the river] will be a great acquisition to this settlement.”[5] Shortland enclosed an eye sketch of the estuary of the river and what is now known as Newcastle harbour, which he made in “the little time I was there.”

Shortland's map of Hunter's River from the Naval Chronicle of 1810

Shortland’s drafting and observational skills are evident from his sketch, which is done to scale. He made some soundings, identified the height of the tide, the location of shoal waters and rocks, and the channels navigated by his boat through the harbour. He indicated where fresh water could be found and described a long sandy beach, “bending towards Port Stephens about 14-16 miles.” Shortland indicated the presence of “natives” at two locations, including one close to where his party slept at the base of what is now known as Signal Hill, but it is thought he had no contact with them.[6]

Newcastle harbour entrance with Noddy's Island

Shortland’s lucky find of both the coal deposits and the Hunter River occurred, by chance, when he was sent in pursuit of some convicts who had seized the government boat, Cumberland, which ordinarily carried supplies between Hawkesbury and Sydney. Apparently, Shortland failed to apprehend the convicts. Nonetheless an enthusiastic Governor Hunter received Shortland’s subsequent report and immediately informed officials in England of his discovery of both the river and “a considerable quantity of coal”[7] at the base of Signal Hill on the south shore near the water.

Returning to England in 1800, John Shortland received various commands, before being made post captain on 6 August 1805. He was subsequently appointed to the Squirrel (24 guns).  By 1808 we find him on the North American Station, where Admiral Sir John Warren posted him into the 40 gun Junon, a vessel recently captured from the French in February 1809. As Shortland was keen to have her ready for action as soon as possible, he is said to have put £1000-1500 of his own money into the Junon’s refurbishment at the Naval Yard in Halifax, Nova Scotia.[8] Amid the busyness of preparations, he found time to have his portrait painted by the accomplished British artist, Robert Field,[9] who happened to be working in Halifax, Nova Scotia. By mid September 1809, Shortland sailed from Halifax on a cruise, undermanned by about 100 sailors, but ready all the same for what prize captures he might make.

John Shortland was fortunate to get his first frigate, the Junon, but his luck did not hold. He had heard of a 20 gun French vessel, bound for Guadeloupe, and while in search of her in December 1809, the Junon was trapped by four French frigates off Antigua. They were the Renommée (40 gun), the Clorinde (40 guns), the Loire (20 guns) and the Seine (20 guns) and they showed no mercy. Shortland fought bravely until he was seriously wounded. After a gallant but hopeless action of 1¼ hours, the French broadsides smashed the Junon before her captors destroyed her by fire.[10] Captain Shortland was taken to Guadeloupe where he died of his wounds five weeks later.[11] 

 Shortland’s career in the Royal Navy had taken him world wide into new and uncharted southern waters. In his profession, he had been an ambitious and diligent naval officer, notable as an early explorer of coastal New South Wales, remembered as the first European to discover coal at Newcastle and to sketch her harbour. But sadly, while serving on the North American Station, he lost both his life and his ship.

Today a suburb of Newcastle bears his name. The motto of the local school is “Respect, Responsibility and Relationships.” This seems fitting for the commemoration of an individual of decisive action and faithful service to his country and his profession.

Shortland public school

[1] The First Fleet refers to the eleven ships that sailed from Portsmouth, England, 13 May 1787, in order to establish a penal colony, which became the first European settlement in Australia. 

[2] Governor Hunter was given the gift of a live wombat captured on Preservation Island in the Bass Strait. When the wombat died, it was preserved in spirits and sent to Joseph Banks to be forwarded to the Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England. When a platypus was discovered in 1798, Hunter sent both a pelt and a sketch of it back to England.

[3] For information about Hunter’s sketches, see Linda Groom, The Steady Hand: Governor Hunter and His First Fleet Sketch Book, National Library of Australia, 2012.

[4] Naval Chronicle for 1810, July to December, vol. 24, 11.

[5] See John Shortland to his father, John Shortland Sr., 10 September 1797, Historical Records of New South Wales, vol.3, 481.

[6] The first published edition of the map in 1810 in the Naval Chronicle does not show the locations of native settlement. For a detailed reconstruction of his explorations, see “Lieutenant Shortland’s Survey of Newcastle on 9th September 1797” by H.W.W. Huntington, in hunterlivinghistories.com.

[7] See Governor Hunter to the Duke of Portland, 10 January 1798, transcribed from Historical Records of New South Wales, vol. 3, 727.  

[8] Naval Chronicle, vol 24,.

[9] See the impressive miniature of Shortland, set in a gold locket. It is in the collection of the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, England. The link is collections-rmg.co.uk/collections/objects/42038.html

[10] For an account of the battle, see the Naval Chronicle for 1810, July to December, vol. 24, 12-14.

[11] For the touching story of Shortland’s faithful dog, Pandore who was with him when he was dying in Guadeloupe, see Sheila Johnson Kindred, Jane Austen’s Transatlantic Sister, MQUP, 2017, 64.