Newton Barton
Newton was born in Maryborough, Queensland in 1870 at a time when bridges were in short supply and boating was an important means of transport. He was widely known as Newt. He died in 1935.
He lived an adventurous life on the water as a champion oarsman, deep sea sailor, fisherman and charter boat owner. Such were his exploits that one tribute paid to him on death was a viking born in a wrong age.
He was an important early Queensland rower who grew up on the Mary River where he and his brothers Charles and Jack learnt to row. He opened his stellar rowing career at Maryborough Grammar School and was the school's first champion oarsman.
Newton stroked the winning Maryborough Rowing Club four to the State Championship on 14 October 1899 at Rockhampton over 3 miles. Pre WWII, this was the major sweep oared State Championship race of Queensland. John Tidey in his book Newton and his Daughter states that: They won 'by as far as one can see a white cow in a bog' and were classed by a critic of the day as 'the finest crew that ever sat a boat in Queensland.'
His older brother Charles had shown Newton the winning way by having won the same race on five separate occasions including the second Championship in 1880.
John Tidey also notes that: Contemporaries described Newton Brown as 'one of the greatest - if not the greatest - oarsman the Mary River ever produced.' In his day he won practically every class of race ever staged;... .
Tidey also quotes from one newspaper obituary which summed him up in these word: A splendid specimen of Australian manhood, Newton Barton stood over six feet in his stockinged feet, weighed thirteen and half [sic] of bone and muscle and was as straight in principle as he was in statue.
Drawn from John Tidey's book Newton and his Daughters - A memoir.
The following poem on the remarkable Newton Barton by "Bannerman" was published in the Maryborough Chronicle on 27th August 1928. It was provided by John Tidey.
NEWTON BARTON.
We all remember Newt. Barton's name,
And his deeds as man and boy,
When he stroked the crews that beat the best,
From the Brisbane to Fitzroy.
And we saw him win and his first club race,
It was ding dong all the way,
Hugh Hood was beaten— a grand old sport,
And a champion in his day.
We've never produced a better man,
Or a man more straight and true,
Who led his men as a leader should,
And inspired his gallant crew.
Oh; happy was he aboard a craft,
As his old-time mates can tell,
When he and the Holme's would sail the Bay,
In the 'Lola' and 'Isobel'.
He was strong and fair and six foot one,
A waterman born was he;
He never was happy long on shore,
For his heart was on the sea.
He tried the Bank, but he found it dull,
The Newspaper trade the same,
In the Foundry too, he made a start,
But voted it far too tame.
He stroked our crews and he brought us fame,
And proud of his name were we,
But the Viking blood came out on top
And he shipped for the Southern sea,
He had many a great adventure there,
And he often risked his life,
Till he came ashore and settled down
And took to himself a wife.
A fisherman brave he made his name,
All around the Northern coast,
And he owned a launch so stout and trim,
That was all his pride and boast.
There came a day when he sailed away
With two comrades on a trip,
And many a yarn was swapped around
Of many a craft and ship.
The motor was stopped, they skimmed along,
With a breeze that filled the sail,
When all at once from the Ocean's depths,
Sprang the form of a monster whale;
Straight up in the air the monster shot
What an awful sight to see,
‘Twas all in a second it happened thus -
No time to move or flee.
Then down it fell with an awful crash,
Right over the motor's deck;
All that was left of the splendid craft
Was some floating chips of the wreck.
"Twas lucky the dinghy broke away -
One paddle alone was found,
And sculling by means of a rowlock belt
For shore was the dinghy bound.
Poor Horton was badly injured too,
And Newt had a wounded shin,
He came of a race that's hard to beat,
And knew not the words “give in”.
Four miles and a half he sculled for shoe,
When motor boats saw their plight,
And brought them soon to the nearest land,
Just before the close of night.
Alas for Horton who'd sailed away,
In his youthful strength and pride,
His legs were smashed by the monster's tail,
And later on shore he died.
In hospital cot Newt. Barton lies,
And mourns for his mate at rest,
For two better mates he never had
Who stood up to every test.
It's up to us now as sportsman true
To offer a helping hand,
To replace the craft that served him well,
And handled in style so grand.
For she was his living in rain or shine,
In years that are past recall,
So let us unite to honour him,
And show we are sportsmen all.
"Bannerman", Maryborough, 23/8/28
Source: “Bannerman” in the Maryborough Chronicle, NEWTON BARTON. (1928, August 27). Maryborough Chronicle, Wide Bay and Burnett Advertiser (Qld. : 1860 - 1947), p. 6. Retrieved July 16, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article151125585.