Emily

by Valerie Wood

  ‘You make it sound exciting, sir, but what about the Aborigines, don’t they object to their land being taken over?’

  He nodded. ‘They do! But on the whole they are a peaceable race and I’m afraid, I’m very much afraid, they’re going to get swamped.’

  Philip made up his mind. As soon as they were docked and before the convicts left the ’tween decks, for they had been put below again as soon as they were within reach of land, then he would ask permission to leave the ship and go ashore. Clavell had given him the necessary information on purchasing a homestead and had given him a reference if he should need one. If Emily should change her mind once they had disembarked, then he would have the papers to hand, and hopefully a house where he could take her.

  He felt churned up with apprehension. He couldn’t bear to think of her confined in the women’s factory. It would be worse than gaol and she would be incarcerated there for many weeks before work was allotted to her. He could sense trouble ahead for her if she stayed with her friend Meg, for from what little he had seen and heard of her he realized that she would not take the brunt of authority lightly. However did Emily come to befriend her? he asked himself for the hundredth time, yet the woman was loyal and protective of Emily. That much was obvious.

  An image came into his mind, an image of another woman he had seen by Emily’s side. A woman with short dark hair nursing a baby. At least, was she nursing a baby? Had there been another baby delivered below decks? Officially there was only one baby born on board ship, and he was sure, almost sure that it belonged to the woman who had jumped overboard. The woman had not been named, they would find out who she was at the end of the voyage after the roll-call. So who was looking after her child? Emily had asked for goat’s milk initially and after that it was collected regularly by various women.

  But he had no time now to think about it, they were coming into harbour and there was a party waiting for them on the quayside who didn’t look very welcoming.

  ‘No more convicts!’ The cry went up from the waiting crowd as the first of the men were rowed to the quay. ‘Take them to Van Dieman’s Land,’ they shouted. ‘They’re happy to have them. Lord Grey reneged on us!’

  The deputy governor was there to accept the transfer of the convicts from the captain and he turned to the crowd. ‘The Legislative Council has agreed in principle to take these assisted exiles and an Order in Council has been secured. These men have served most of their time already. They are now here to work, on the roads and on the farms.’

  There were mutterings and grumblings, but the crowd knew they couldn’t win this time unlike a previous occasion when with a mass show of public indignation they had turned away the convict ship the Halshemy.

  Captain Martin sent a boatload of women next, including Emily and Meg. Some of the women collapsed as their legs gave way beneath them when they touched firm ground, but Emily and Meg stood up straight and proud, Meg clutching the baby close to her chest. There were a few whistles of approval from the men as the women convicts stood there and some shouts of derision from the women settlers. ‘Whores! We don’t want you here!’

  But the women immigrants were outnumbered as well they knew. There was a shortage of women in New South Wales and although some immigrant men had brought their wives, there were many single men on the lookout for women to share their beds, clean their houses and cook their food.

  ‘I’ll take the blonde one,’ a man in the crowd shouted. ‘How much do you want for her?’

  Emily’s neck and face flushed in shame. This was worse than she expected. She moved closer to Meg, then lifted her head to look for Mr Linton. She saw Captain Martin talking to officials with Lieutenant Boyle and several other officers. The surgeon was there also, looking extremely smart in his white trousers and waistcoat and his dark dress coat gilded with braid, but she couldn’t see Philip Linton. Surely he would come to say goodbye, she grieved. He wouldn’t just stay on board. Was he angry with her for not agreeing to go with him? Or perhaps he is on duty and can’t leave the ship. She looked round at the male convicts to try to find Joe and spotted him within the crowd. He had a worried frown as he looked across at her and was rubbing his hand across his beard.

  The crowd started to disperse as more convicts came ashore and soon the quayside was full, over three hundred in all, men and women, shackled by the ankle irons once more and assigned to their new prison homeland.

  ‘Some of these men are ticket of leave men.’ An official, primed by the deputy governor, spoke up. ‘If any of you need help on your farms come to see me to arrange a contract.’ He turned to Lieutenant Boyle. ‘If any of these men are agricultural workers, put them together in a group, otherwise they’ll be put to the roads.’

  Emily could see that Joe was straining to hear what was being said and he edged nearer to the front of the crowd.

  ‘Some of the women will be taken on as housekeepers,’ said the official. ‘Those with children will be accepted first. Children can’t go to Parramatta.’

  Emily drew in a breath. Meg had the child and she had said that she would swear he was hers. ‘Meg,’ she whispered, ‘we’ll be parted. I’ll have to go to Parramatta alone!’

  Meg turned to her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I just heard them say that they won’t take children to Parramatta. You’ll go somewhere else. Not Parramatta.’ She was frightened. What would happen to her?

  Meg stared at her. ‘But, you’ll go with Mr Linton! You said that he’d asked you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I told him that I couldn’t. That I’d promised to stay with you!’

  ‘You idiot, Emily! You know that I can look after myself. You must go with him, it’s ’best chance you’ve got!’

  ‘I don’t know where he is! I haven’t seen him.’ She started to shake. Suppose, just suppose she was made to go with some other man, some settler who wanted a woman. Scenes of Hugo Purnell’s assault on her filled her mind and she felt faint. Blackness filled her senses and she clutched Meg’s arm. I’d rather go to Parramatta. Parramatta. Parramatta. The dreaded name which had been talked of by the women convicts in such hushed tones, hammered in her mind before she fell to the floor in a dizzy spell.

  Only Meg and some of the other women came to assist her. She heard voices and names being called, hers being one of them, and she was hauled to her feet and shepherded to one side along with some of the other women, all young like herself, but Meg wasn’t one of them.

  ‘All women with children step forward.’ The order came and with irons clanking the women shuffled forward, Meg amongst them. A roll-call was held and names called. ‘You,’ an official shouted at Meg, ‘what’s your name?’

  ‘Margaret Johnson,’ she answered.

  ‘It doesn’t say here that you have a child!’

  ‘I hadn’t when I was put on board,’ she answered boldly.

  He looked down his list. ‘There’s only one birth registered.’ He looked at Clavell. ‘It’s not the same name.’

  Clavell shrugged. ‘Perhaps I didn’t deliver it.’

  ‘Is it your child?’

  ‘Yes.’ Meg stared straight at the official. ‘He was delivered below decks.’

  The official again glanced at Clavell and then at Meg. ‘Then who delivered it?’

  ‘I did!’ Emily, listening to what was being said, spoke up. ‘I delivered it.’

  ‘And I helped her,’ said another woman who had shared their bunk.

  Lieutenant Boyle moved forward with a sly smile on his face. ‘Lies,’ he said. ‘The woman’s a whore! It’s not her child at all. She’s after going with a family instead of Parramatta, which is where she belongs.’ He outstared Meg with a cynical glare. ‘Look at her with her shorn head. I remember her insolence. She’s a whore, she’s been with every man on this ship.’

  ‘’Cept you, Mr Boyle, and I wouldn’t touch you wi’ gloves on,’ Meg replied sharply and there was a ripple of laughter.

  There was a sudden movement amon
g the male convicts and Joe pushed his way forward. ‘You’re speaking of my wife, sir. The child is mine.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Philip hired a mount to take him back to the harbour. He had the deeds of the purchased property in his pocket. It had been remarkably simple. He had given his guarantee and Clavell’s recommendation, signed a few forms and the property was his. He had also been persuaded to accept a grant towards an additional two hundred acres of land on condition that he maintained a convict. ‘Welcome to Sydney, sir,’ the government clerk had said. ‘You won’t regret it.’

  I hope not, Philip thought as he rode back through the town. I’ve never before purchased something without seeing it. But he had been shown a drawing and plan of the farmstead and land, which was small in comparison to some he had been offered. But he reckoned it was enough. I’ll get an overseer to look after it and he can hire some hands, and then when I return to England they will be there to protect Emily. Already he was churned up in anticipation of taking her to the farm, of planning the arrangement of the house and furniture. And then, he mused, when she is used to having me around we can look to the future and I can tell her that I am returning to England to obtain her pardon.

  If she comes with you, a small voice hammered in his head. She said that she wouldn’t. He shuddered. What would he do if he was rejected? He would have a house and land that he didn’t want, although the clerk had said he would be able to sell it easily should he want to.

  He rode down the wide streets and noted the variety of houses, some brick, some stone, some whitewashed. Most were of a simple structure and huddled together in groups as if for protection. Nearly all of them had a garden, though there were few flowers growing, but there were exotic-looking trees with thin grey leaves, and he thought of home, up on the Yorkshire Wolds, where it was now early summer. The blossom would be fully out and the birds singing in full trilling throat.

  The public buildings and administrative offices, the Public Library, the hospital and churches were grand and impressive and many were built in the English architectural style. On the streets he rode through, new buildings were being erected and the air was filled with dust and the sound of hammering and sawing. The Domain had been laid out as a public park, where elegant ladies emerged from their carriages to stroll arm in arm with their companions, whilst the free settlers sat in small groups on the grass to eat mutton pies and drink ale, listen to the regimental bands or watch a game of cricket or gaze at the magnificent harbour view.

  There was a snake of wagons and carts moving away from the harbour as he rode towards the quayside and only a few groups of convicts standing in desultory fashion awaiting their fate. Poor devils, he thought. There’s hard labour on the roads for the men and God only knows what’s waiting for the women.

  He tied the reins to a hitching rail and walked across to where Clavell and Boyle were standing. Boyle’s face was flushed and angry and Clavell’s was pained. Boyle gave a cynical grin when he saw Philip. ‘You’ve just missed your little lady.’ He emphasized the word lady. ‘She’s gone off to Parramatta.’

  ‘No!’ He was horrorstruck. I can’t be too late. I’ve ridden so hard.

  ‘’Fraid so. They’ve sent all the single women.’ Boyle pointed to those who were left. ‘Though there’s one over there who should have gone. She’s claiming to be married with a child and I’d bet a month’s salary that she isn’t.’

  ‘The name’s the same, Boyle,’ Clavell said idly. ‘What difference does it make to you whether she goes to Parramatta or gets sent to a farm?’

  Boyle sneered. ‘Because she’s a street woman and they never change. She’ll be running around the rookeries of Sydney plying her trade within a month. She should be sent to Parramatta to finish her sentence. They know how to punish in there.’

  ‘Who are you talking about?’ Philip was busy working out how he could get to see Emily. If only Boyle would take himself off he could talk to Clavell.

  ‘The tall woman with the child.’ Clavell nodded towards Meg, who, with a male convict, was arguing with an official. ‘She claims the child was delivered below decks.’

  ‘And your little friend said she delivered it!’ Boyle laughed.

  Why would Emily say that and why didn’t she mention it to me? He stared hard at the woman. Was it Emily’s friend Meg? Yes, he was sure it was. But why was she keeping the child?

  He turned to Clavell. ‘Don’t they take children at Parramatta?’

  ‘Not any more.’ Clavell shook his head. ‘I told you that the authorities want families here. They’ll be assigned to a farm if someone will take them.’

  Philip took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Damn! Am I too late again? ‘Excuse me,’ he muttered and raced across the quayside towards where Meg, the convict and the official were standing.

  ‘Are these people free?’ he burst out. ‘I urgently need a farmhand and a woman for the house.’ He stared hard at Meg. ‘So you were delivered of your child safely? You didn’t need the help of the surgeon?’

  Meg opened and closed her mouth. ‘No, Mr Linton, I didn’t,’ she said firmly. ‘He was delivered below decks. An easy enough birth.’

  ‘Good. Good!’ Philip rubbed his hands together, then shook a finger at her. ‘But you should have notified us, you know! We’re supposed to log births and deaths.’

  ‘Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize.’ She eyed him warily. ‘You’ve not met my husband.’ She turned towards Joe. ‘I didn’t realize he was on ’same ship ’till we were well out at sea.’

  The harassed official looked down at his notes. ‘Well, if you can vouch for these people, sir, you can hire them. He’s an assigned man, so if they’re married like they say, she gets her freedom. He says he’s a farm worker.’

  ‘Was, sir,’ Joe interrupted. ‘I’ve been doing hard labour in ’dockyard for ’last few years.’

  So how are they supposed to have conceived a child? Philip quizzed himself. I could be taking on a footpad or murderer. He rubbed his chin. I’ll have to risk it. If Emily will only come if Meg is there too, then I’ll have to take him as well. He looks a villainous fellow with his shaggy beard and long hair, but then who wouldn’t after being incarcerated below decks?

  He signed the necessary papers and as the official took his leave, Philip said to Joe, ‘These papers give your address as London, but your wife’s is different!’

  ‘Yes, sir. I was caught thieving in London but I’m from ’north of England, same as my wife, Margaret, here.’

  ‘Yes.’ Philip wondered how they had managed to meet to concoct a story. ‘I know. I can hear it in your accent.’

  ‘Can you, sir?’ The man seemed astonished.

  ‘How’s that then?’

  ‘Because that’s where I’m from too. But that’s not a Hull accent like your – wife’s!’

  Joe put his head up and looked at him frankly. ‘No, I’m not from that town. I’m from a country district, but I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind, sir. That’s a life behind me. This is a new one.’

  Philip called for the irons to be unlocked from their ankles and noticed that Johnson walked with a limp, throwing his leg as if still shackled.

  He sent a boy to hire him a horse and wagon. ‘The farm that I’ve bought is a few miles out of Sydney.’ He studied the map of the area that he’d been given. ‘I’ve no idea what it’s like. It’s a shot in the dark.’ He looked at each of them squarely. ‘I’ve taken it on trust, just as I have taken both of you. If you let me down then I won’t hesitate but send you to the road gang, Johnson – and you, Meg,’ there was a threat in his soft tone, ‘will go to Parramatta without the child.’

  Meg hugged the child closer to her, there was fear in her eyes. ‘I won’t let you down, Mr Linton. I promise.’ Then she looked at him pleadingly. ‘When will you go for Emily, sir?’

  There was a cool breeze blowing and the seagulls shrieked their shrill cries as they swooped over the cove as Emily was b
undled into the cart with the other women. I seem to have spent my life getting in and out of carts and wagons, she thought wearily. Is there to be no end to it? She looked despairingly to where her brother Joe and Meg were standing next to each other and they too were staring across at her as she was driven away. She felt desolate and so alone.

  The road to Parramatta was sixteen miles long, rough and laid with broken stone, and as the wagon trundled and shook on its journey, she gazed about her at the countryside. Strange grey trees climbed the high ground and as she looked back the way they had come she saw an old, crumbling fort overlooking the bay. The town had been filled with townspeople, not only convicts in their dull grey uniforms, but women in bright cotton dresses with baskets over their arms; others in silk and muslin stepped into carriages. There was a scattering of colourful uniforms, the dark blue and white of the naval men and scarlet and grey of the military. What a strange place, she pondered. I thought it would be dark and dismal like a prison, but most people seem cheerful, although perhaps they are the free settlers. But there were shops and warehouses and green squares and a stream running through the middle of the town and a market where dark-skinned natives were selling fresh fish, and farmers, just the same as at home, were wearing thick cotton smocks and straw hats on their heads.

  Parramatta too was a lively town, whereas she had expected only a prison, and the sky was filled with the sound and colour of budgerigars as they flew over their heads. But as they drove through the open gates set in the high brick walls of the female factory, she felt that her worst fears were about to come true and that here life would be as dark and dismal as she had expected.