This is an interesting story, whose elements have been assembled from several sources which alone give no hint of the connections that certainly existed, and the story that unfolded.

For practical reasons we must begin with the story of the Priest. His name was Thomas Fyshe-Palmer, and he was born in July 1747 in Ickwell, Bedfordshire, England, the son of Henry Fyshe and Elizabeth Ingram. The Fyshe family was an ancient one who assumed the added name of Palmer by reason of an inheritance, and young Thomas was well educated for his time, attending Eton and entering Queen's College, Cambridge, where he received several degrees. The university experiences sat ill with his earlier religious training, and although he was ordained in the Church of England in 1771 he became dissatisfied with certain doctrines and after 1783 embraced Unitarianism, which he preached to Scottish congregations in Dundee and surrounding towns.

With his education and with a growing set of connections with the more radical political elements of the time, he was eventually arrested and charged with 'seditious practices', and tried and convicted in Perth, Scotland.
His sentence was seven years transportation, which at this time meant transportation to the new penal colony in Australia, and thus in April 1794 he found himself on the transport 'Surprize' along with three other so called 'Scottish Martyrs', namely Thomas Muir, William Skirving, and Maurice Margarot.

The reputation of these political criminals must have been quite alarming, for while on the voyage the captain of the 'Surprize' heard word that they were plotting a mutiny, and acted swiftly to confine Palmer and Skirving in conditions of extreme hardship, which were the subject of complaints laid before Lieut-Governor Grose on their arrival in Port Jackson on 25 November 1794. The 'mutiny' was subsequently disproved, and the martyrs were released into conditions that were somewhat different to those facing the normal convict. Palmer was free to move about and engage in normal activities, and did so with varying success.

He tried farming, but this was unproductive, and besides, he was a man of 47 years of age, no longer physically fit; nor had he been exposed to the grinding realities of life on the land in a personal context. He then entered into a partnership with John Boston and James Ellis, two young free settlers who had also come out on the 'Surprize'.

It is probably a little unfair to call John Boston a 'con-man'. Let us say instead that he and James Ellis were determined to make the most of the opportunities in this new land, but were hindered somewhat by the fact that they were green, and that they lacked the necessary contacts to move ahead in the business of business. They tried many things, such as the production of salt, and at one time started a brewery. This enterprise fell foul of the government of the day, which saw no reason to treat the new enterprise differently to those opportunistic captains who arrived at Port Jackson with spirits. This policy was later to lead to some serious repercussions and what was known as the 'Rum Rebellion', but in these first struggling years it merely caused the enterprise to be uneconomic.

John Boston was a persistent man, and his companion James Ellis was the son of a Dundee staymaker who had been Thomas Palmer's companion and protégé for several years, and indeed Ellis senior had given evidence at Palmer's trial. Thus it was unsurprising that the three new Australians should form their 'Boston & Co'.

Palmer supplied the practical knowledge to support their wild schemes, and it was his copy of an encyclopaedia that provided the essential details that made them successful ship builders. They built several ships, small but able to travel as far afield as Norfolk Island and south into Bass Strait. In building these vessels they once again ran foul of the structure of government, which had decreed that no such ships were to be built in case the convicts stole them and escaped, which did in fact happen on some occasions. Nevertheless, everyone needed the boats, and it seems likely that Boston & Co. were able to proceed without hindrance as long as the authorities could have the ships they produced.

They produced a number of vessels, including the 'Martha' (30 tons) which certainly travelled as far south as King Island in an era when little was known of the area. Indeed, George Bass, the surgeon turned explorer had not completed his explorations. It is worth noting that he too was a close personal friend of Thomas Palmer, so it was clear that the clique of explorers were very happy to utilise Boston & Co. for their purposes.

This did not satisfy John Bolton, who saw his grandiose plans thwarted at every turn by a greedy, grasping administration. Thomas Palmer held similar views, and in writing back to England to his friends tried to influence local NSW affairs by throwing serious doubt on the Governor's activities and administration. In this he failed, but the affair was a close one that probably did not endear him to the then Governor Hunter.

Meanwhile the Spanish ship 'El Plumier' had been taken as a prize while travelling between California and Peru, along with another vessel. Her cargo was largely spirits, and so it was deemed worthwhile for the privateer captain who had apprehended her to sail her south to Sydney, Australia. In fact, it was a little more difficult than that, for the privateer vessel, 'Betsey', had to actively tow the Spanish vessel virtually all the way across the Pacific. The pair were recorded at Tonga in late 1799 on their way to Sydney.

This was because of the rules of engagement. A pirate ship was one which preyed on any and all vessels, but a privateer had a licence of sorts, known as a 'letter of marque', and was supposed to take only those vessels that belonged to the countries your own was currently at war with. To ensure matters were legal, any successful privateer had to submit his claim to the nearest Vice Admiralty Board, and in the whole of the Pacific there was only the one place with such a board; Sydney, Australia.

Thus the Spanish prize vessel was brought to Sydney and her capture validated. Her cargo of spirits was removed and sold, but the state of the ship itself was very questionable, and no captain or businessman with sense wanted anything to do with her.

Except Boston & Co. John Boston saw in this ship an opportunity to make money. He had the artisans, he had the time, and he certainly now had some influence, so he was able to arrange purchase of the ship, and he was able to obtain permission to sail her away, ostensibly to return to England via Cape Horn, for it was high summer 1801 and it was the fastest way to travel. The southern hemisphere winds always blew from west to east, so as long as the weather was fair any vessel could expect to clear Cape Horn and make for Rio or even farther across to the Cape of Good Hope.

Boston had other plans. He knew that east of Australia was the relatively untouched country of New Zealand, where, unlike Australia, forests of suitable timber abounded. He had a good captain in William Reid, a man who had come out as a mate in 'HMS Sirius', and when that ship had been lost at Norfolk Island, he was one of the few crewmen who chose not to sail back to England in the rented Dutch snow 'Waaksamheid', but had stayed on to try his hand at farming. Shortly afterwards he found his seafaring background very much more useful than his farming knowledge, and he had been elevated to captain in the government schooner 'Francis', which commonly travelled around the coast.

Another useful man was James Puckey, a shipwright and general carpenter who had probably been associated with Boston & Co. since his return from Tahiti in the 'Nautilus' in 1798. He had been an artisan missionary seconded by the London Missionary Society to be part of their first missionary project in Polynesia, and had travelled out to the islands in the 'Duff' in March 1797 along with his brother William. Both found themselves involuntary settlers in NSW, and had to find means of support, so it would be natural for a man with ship building skills to gravitate to the only serious ship building enterprise of the time.

Reid took 'El Plumier' to the east coast of New Zealand, to what would later be known as the Thames Bight, just south of Auckland's Waitemata Harbour. There they warped the old ship up the creek and proceeded to repair her as best they could, with no officious eyes overlooking the enterprise. It took them much longer than they had planned, and it was some months before they could sail again. If ever Boston had intended to travel to England, his chance was now gone, for winter was virtually on them and the Cape Horn route closed. It is likely that Boston had expected this, and his subsequent actions suggest his main plan was to go north to China, where he could make a financial killing.

This was not easy to do, for the spice trade was pretty well tied up by the East India Company and its Dutch equivalent. Only EI ships were permitted to enter Wampoa, the river port near today's Hong Kong, and only they could avoid the penalties imposed by the various colonial strictures in places like the Cape of Good Hope. Thus Wampoa was out, but there was one other possibility, the Portuguese port of Macau. It is believed the 'El Plumier' was making for here when she left New Zealand.

The ship would not cooperate. She was old, and even the patient months of rebuilding could not change the fact that she was rotten. Reid had to sail her very carefully indeed, and the seas through which he sailed were dangerous, with reefs and coral islands that were uncharted and difficult to see, especially at night. It was a reef that got them, off Koro Island, and it became necessary to find a port, both for repairs and for provisions, for by then they were very low on food and water.

They landed at Fiji, and to their surprise were greeted by one of their countrymen, one Oliver Slater. Slater had been shipwrecked a year or so before when his ship, the 'Argo' had also hit a reef. The surviving crew were probably the first white men in Fiji, and they brought two new elements into Fijian culture; disease and muskets.

Presumably it was Slater's knowledge of the local chiefs and customs that allowed Boston and his party to provision, and they were able to make temporary repairs to the ship itself, and of course Slater chose to go with them when the voyage north resumed.

They didn't make it. The ship was making water and virtually sinking by the time they reached Guam Bay in what was then Spanish territory, and they had little choice but to make for port. A Spanish port. The Spanish governor promptly seized the ship as a prize, no doubt recognising an irony of circumstance, but it was soon abundantly clear that 'El Plumier' had sailed her last. Even the Spanish accepted the realities and deemed her unseaworthy, leaving her as a rotting hulk.

Palmer died there in Guam on 2 June 1802, enfeebled by this last hardship, and because the Spanish friars knew of his unorthodox religious beliefs, they refused to let him be buried in consecrated ground. Instead, he was buried along the seashore 'among pirates'. He lay there until May 1804, when the American ship 'Mary' called at the island on a voyage from Sydney to Manila, and her master, one Captain Balch, knowing Palmers history, obtained permission from the Spanish governor to remove his remains. It seems likely that this may have been the outcome of a meeting between Balch and Boston, for logically the latter would have just arrived in Port Jackson, Sydney, at the time the 'Mary' was preparing to leave. Indeed, given the unlikelihood of any vessel leaving Sydney for Manila while there was still a war with Spain, it does not appear unreasonable that Boston may have concluded some other deal, probably involving spirits, 'oh, and by the way, our old partner and friend Thomas still lies there...'

Of course we can never know this was so, but given the way the original group stuck together, it does not seem unreasonable. Palmer's papers and effects, for instance, were left to James Ellis, then in Manila, but these were lost.

Captain Balch of the 'Mary' then took Palmer's coffin to Boston, and a tablet was placed over his final tomb in one of the churches of that city, although no trace of it can now be found. A memorial to the Scottish Martyrs was later erected on Carlton Hill, Edinburgh, and there his name is inscribed. Exit the priest.

At the time of the arrival and subsequent siezing of the 'Le Plumier' at Guam, the owners were nevertheless treated with hospitality, and during that year Boston, Ellis and Reid, along with much of their crew, were able to get to Manila. There Boston successfully ran a distillery, and Reid became master of an American ship, which in short time became the joint property of Bolton and Reid.

One can only surmise that Boston's new-found success in the liquor industry had reminded him of the situation in Sydney, where such merchandise fetched premium prices, as long as one had the right connections. This may account for the fact that Reid and Boston sailed for Sydney in the 'Fair American', arriving in May 1804. This time he did it right, and dealt through the main wheeler/dealer of Port Jackson, one Simeon Lord. Lord bought the liquor, but the Governor still prohibited its sale in Sydney, so they developed plan 'B'. They made a deal with a Captain Pendleton, master of the American sealer brig 'Union', who was about to depart for China and then on to America.

There were actually several plans. Lord wanted to sell the liquor, while Boston was interested in getting back to the islands where they would both reap the rewards of a cargo of sandalwood. It must be surmised that Oliver Slater was the source of this particular plan, for history records him returning to Fiji and being almost singlehandedly responsible for the virtual destruction of the sandalwood forests there, not to mention the brisk trade in firearms. It seems equally logical the Slater was there in Sydney, having travelled with Boston, and that he would likewise be on the 'Union' when she left, for it would be his knowledge of the native people that would allow them to deal for the timber in the first case.

Pendleton, on the other hand, was just returned from a successful sealing venture in Bass Strait, and Simeon Lord was holding thousands of sealskins on his behalf. He wanted to sell these in China, but he had a greatly reduced crew because he had left half of them in Bass Strait still collecting seals. The EI protocols banned trade between Sydney and Canton, but an American vessel going to an intermediate port might be exempt.

So on 29 August 1804 'Union' left Port Jackson, ostensibly for the Pacific, but in fact went directly to Norfolk Island. There Lord's liquor was quietly sold, much to the later anger of the Governor in Sydney, and 11 crewmen were obtained, sources unspecified. The ship then sailed on to her original destination, reaching Nuku'alofa on Tongatapu island (Tonga) on 30 September 1804. There, deceived by the friendly welcome of the natives on the shore, Boston, Pendleton, and six crewmen put ashore in a boat but were massacred as soon as they reached land. P> There was more to this story, but it remains more properly part of the story of beachcombers, missionaries and Mrs Morey. The 'Union' returned to Sydney after the disaster, possibly to return the now superfluous persons on board (including Slater), and resumed her journey to America shortly afterwards, only to run onto those same Fijian reefs that had caught the 'Argo'.

Interestingly, it was in part the sealskins from 'Union' that made up the cargo on another ship with another story to tell, that of the 'Boyd' massacre.

So ended the career of our con-man. What became of Ellis? To date we have been unable to find out. Slater, we know, continued to deal in sandalwood. James Puckey started home for England but only got as far as the Cape of Good Hope and died there in 1803; he had apparently made his own way there from Manila and was not a party to the later sandalwood plans. Boston's wife and two children, who had been with him through all the years of travel, were presumably on the 'Union' when Boston was killed, so were likely returned to Australia, while it is assumed that Reid continued on with his own ship to America.

This story has been assembled from strands acquired in many places. The bulk of the factual information has been condensed from the notes on some of the characters as described in 'The Australian Dictionary of Biography', edited by Douglas Pike, and Adrienne Puckey has been generous with input concerning her forebears. Later data was found in 'Rascals,Ruffians & Rebels of Early Australia',by Frank Clune.

We hope you like it, and if you have anything new to add please let us know.