10 October 1935

POLICE INSPECTOR MURDERED AT GOVERNMENT HOUSE

Cold-Blooded Killing During Auction Sale

A few weeks before Sir Richard McDonnell relinquished the Governorship of the State, he held a sale of his furniture and effects at Government House. This was widely advertised, and leading citizens were invited and granted admission tickets to allow them to attend.

The sale in the ballroom had been completed by Mr. Parr, the auctioneer, and he announced that they would next sell in the bedrooms. As soon as a move was made for the door a shot was heard in the hall out-side. Inspector Pettinger was found there dying, having been shot in the head from close range. His head was shattered. He was taken to an adjoining room, but died almost immediately.

Inspector R. P. Pettinger was a young man of 32, who had risen from the ranks of the force through his industry. Only a short time before his death he had been given his rank of inspector. The rumor was spread that he had committed suicide, but this was hardly a reasonable thing for a police inspector in charge of an important auction sale to do.

Several detectives were close to where the shooting took place, but none had seen the shot fired. Neither, apparently, had any of the buyers. Then a policeman who had been on gate duty, John Featherstone, hurried in, spoke to Constable Badman, and the two of them followed a servant who was leaving the hall by the back passage. They arrested him on a charge of murder.

This man was John Seaver, described as about 50, tall, athletic and upright. He had been in the British Army and had served in the West Indies. He had, however, joined the police force as a constable, and had been discharged on the report of Inspector Pettinger for drunkenness and neglect of duty. That was about a month before the murder, and since then he had been employed at Government House, where his wife, also, had found work. If John Seaver had not been a servant, it is possible that the murder would never have been committed at Government House, as two men were stationed at Government House gates to ensure that only those with tickets were allowed to enter.

Giving evidence at the inquest which was held at Government House on the night of the shooting, one of the gate keepers said that Seaver had passed him with something in his hand, done up in dark colored cloth. He asked him what he had, and he had said that it was a pistol to shoot the cats. As Seaver was known to be a servant, no objection was raised to his entering. At another door, however, Seaver had a longer conversation, this time with a policeman, John Featherstone. 'It will be better for you today than yesterday,' Seaver was alleged to have said. 'I have been down to Pettinger's place; the Governor and Captain Brinkley want to see him, but it won't be good for him when they do see him.'

Featherstone laughed, but then noticed the bundle Seaver was carrying. 'What have you there?' he asked. 'It's no business of yours,' answered Seaver. Pressed by Featherstone, Seaver admitted, 'Yes, it's a pistol to shoot cats.' With that he passed on.

The scene changed to the ballroom of Government House while the sale is on. Suddenly a woman screamed, 'Take him out, take him out!' Badman looked round, and noticed the man referred to, but could find no reason for taking action, and tried to quieten the woman. She left shortly afterwards. She was Mrs. Seaver, and the man referred to was her husband. Apparently, she had an idea of what would happen. Another woman saw the pistol in Seaver's hand. She was Mrs. John Cave, but she knew that some had been sold that day, and she thought it must have been one of them.

Pettinger went in the hall as soon as the auctioneer announced that they would go to adjoining rooms, and, according to evidence given, Seaver followed him. No one saw who shot Pettinger. Mr. John Cave said he saw Pettinger fall when he turned round on hearing the shot, and that he saw the prisoner afterwards drop a dark cloth and kick it away. This cloth fell into the pool of blood. 'The pistol was fired either by the prisoner or me, and it was not me,' was Cave's testimony.

Featherstone, hearing a rumor that a man had shot himself at Government House, remembered Seaver 's words, and hurried inside. He saw the pool of blood and the dark cloth. 'That will do,' he exclaimed. 'What's that?' asked Badman. He explained quickly. Then they noticed Seaver, deathly pale and agitated, leaving by the back door of the hall. They hurried after him, and arrested him for murder.

Screams were heard coming from the kitchen. Mrs. Seaver, on hearing the shot, screamed frantically. 'He's dead, he's dead. I know he's dead,' she cried. Seaver was taken to his wife to try to pacify her. He shook her. 'There's no harm done, there's no body hurt,' he told her. 'What are you making this noise about?' She looked up at him. 'He's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead,' she repeated. 'Here I am. I'm not hurt, look at me,' replied Seaver. He then called her by her Christian name, Caroline, and she appeared to recognise him. A little girl nearby was sobbing bitterly, 'Oh, my mother is dying,' she was saying.

Continuing until midnight and the following morning, the coroner's Jury returned a finding of wilful murder against Seaver. On the way to the inquest, Seaver had become confidential with his escort. 'It is a pity that that puppy Pettinger was ever put over me,' he was alleged to have said. 'I am a man who has served under two kings and a queen. I should have been over him instead of him over me.' Later, he is alleged to have said, 'There will be two wives to provide for now— his and mine.'

The murder occurred on February 4, 1862, and Seaver was put on trial for murder a fortnight later. His wife Caroline, was changed with aiding and abetting her husband. Seaver was not represented by counsel, but the presiding judge asked a young lawyer, named Cooper, who was in court, to take up the case. No new evidence was produced, and Cooper's plea for the prisoner that no one had seen the murder committed, and that Pettinger had committed suicide (despite medical evidence, which stated that it would have been impossible) had no effect on the jury, which returned a verdict of guilty within ten minutes.

All Seaver said before being sentenced to death was to complain that his defence had been entrusted to a young boy, who began his practice by taking his perilous case in hand. The case against Mrs. Seaver was dropped. Three small paragraphs record the end of this tragedy. The first of three lines tells of Seaver's execution; the second explains how a cast of Seaver's head was made after the execution, and that 'the features did not portray, viewing the cast openly, any resemblance to the unfortunate original.' The final paragraph stated that Mr. W. J. Peterswald had been appointed by the Commissioner of Police ' (Major Warburton) as successor to Inspector Pettinger. It was explained that the appointment had been made outside the police force, but that 'under the peculiar circumstances of the case, it was advisable that it should be so!'— H.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1935, October 10). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92326717

Early Parliamentary Humor

In your issue of September 12 [http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92325955 ] Colonel Castine records some ancient history of South Australia, and in his concluding article he gives some interesting reminiscences of Parliamentary life 40 years ago. This brings back to my memory many incidents I had almost forgotten.

In those days some electorates were represented by two members. I lived in the County of Jervois. The senior member for the district was Edward Moule, and his colleague was W. A. Horn. The Hon. C. C. Kingston was Premier.

W. A. Horn was a pastoralist and it was his first accession to Parliamentary honors. He soon became recognised as the wit of the House. In a debate on a proposed reduction of the tariff, he remarked that if the Minister for Customs had lived in the days of 'Fair Helen,' 'The wooden horse had never got into Troy, because he would have put a totally prohibitive duty on it.'

At that time Yorke Peninsula was represented in Parliament by a bluff old farmer, who often shocked the House by his language, and who was obsessed with the conviction that the pastoralists were receiving better treatment in the matter of rentals and legislation than the farmers. His usual method of referring to the former was, 'them there damned squatters.' Mr. Horn, after listening to this for some time, arose and said 'that the remarks of the member for Yorke Peninsula reminded him of how history repeated itself. Many members no doubt had heard of that incident in the Bible, relating to Cain and Abel. It was recorded that these two were brothers. One was an agriculturist and the other a pastoralist. One tilled the soil, and the other tended his flock. And Cain slew his brother Abel.' Listening to the member for Yorke Peninsula,' said Horn, 'I am inclined to the belief that we have in this House a lineal descendant of Cain.'

Later on it became apparent that the member on whom the mantle of wit seemed to have fallen, very rarely made, an extempore speech. The climax came when in a debate he deplored the weakness of the Ministry, because of its inability to pass many measures brought forward, and in a satirical vein he stated 'that the Ministry as at present constituted was strongly suggestive of a mixture of brandy and water, and members would easily be able to distinguish the Three Stars of the team from the aqueous fluid with, which they were diluted.'

This roused a vigorous discussion in the newspapers, in which the chief antagonists were Mr. Horn and 'Alphabetical' Johnston, the latter also a member of the House. One of Johnston's quotations during the controversy was from 'Patience': —

If this young man expresses himself
In terms too deep for me;
Why what an exceedingly deep young man,
This deep young man must be.

At this stage a truce seems to have been called, possibly because the public was getting tired of the levity indulged in by members to the exclusion of business. For some time members had been frequently presenting opponents with epitaphs to be inscribed on their tombstones when they were dead (politically). Mr. Johnston was known amongst his intimates as Frank, and to others as 'Alphabetical Johnston,' because or the great number of his Christian names. The Horn-Johnston episode was closed by one of the reporters penning these lines in his column.

For a time the mantle of wit
Was worn by fellow named Horn.
But a chap named Frank
Took a humorous prank,
And now the mantle is torn.

— C.H.A.

Early Parliamentary Humor (1935, October 10). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92326711

Seized His Opportunity

A few years ago a young Adelaide man became unemployed, as a result of the depression. As the months passed by he became despondent through his enforced idleness. In desperation he packed his swag and toured the country, but was not successful in his search for work. He then decided to call on every factory manager in the metropolitan area in what proved to be a hopeless quest for a job. Surely, this was the last straw. But the young chap still held his chin high.

One morning his father gave him some razor blades to take and get sharpened. Here was his opportunity, and he seized it. He asked himself, 'Why can't I sharpen those blades?' He experimented in a shed at the rear of the house, and after a day's labor he finally won through. Later he went out canvassing for orders. Business was such that he was able to purchase a bicycle, and later a motor car. Today he is the head of a flourishing concern, and employs five assistants. — A.D.

Seized His Opportunity (1935, October 10). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92326737

Feline Will Of The Wisp

As a girl, I lived on a farm on which it was the custom in dry summers to cart water for household use from a well some distance away. One night a mysterious light was seen moving about near the sheds, so father went to investigate. Ascertaining what the light was did not prove a very easy matter, for, immediately he went towards it, it would move to another place, never permitting him to get near enough to it to discover what it was.

For more than an hour he watched the light; then at last he was able to get near enough to see that it was a cat with a tin on its head. Having gone to the tank for a drink, the cat had got its head caught in the tin that was used for dipping water from the tank, and the moon, being very dim, just threw sufficient light to make the bright tin shine.— 'Hopeful.'

Feline Will Of The Wisp (1935, October 10). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92326735