But for now, in the planning stages of arranging a pleasant Christmas for the passengers and crew aboard the Umpherston, Bessie was part of Lady Harriet’s ‘do good’ committee, and was feeling well content.
Chapter Seven
After just over four months at sea, with the final part of the journey spent cruising through the blue waters of the Indian Ocean, past palm tree covered islands in the distance and into the warm waters of the Southern Ocean, the heat below in the Umpherston became so unbearable that many chose to sleep up top, with permission from the captain of course.
Edgy tempers became the norm, parents screamed at truculent children, fights broke out amongst repressed men and Lady Harriet made a discovery that caused moral outrage amongst the privileged passengers on board. It appeared that a little bird had told her that members of the crew had smuggled aboard a couple of girls when the ship had docked in Cape Town. Both were mulattos and although hidden from view they had been passed around for the pleasure of the crew members and had been seen parading along the deck one evening after the Captain had ordered lock down.
Lady Harriet, conscious of her status as a member of the aristocracy and wife of Sir Rodney and his position as one of Queen Victoria’s representatives, had made her way to Captain O’Neill’s quarters, without consulting her husband. She had barged into the cabin, intent on insisting that the men be punished and the girls locked up for the duration of the voyage. She had been shocked to come face to face with a girl of tawny complexion with lots of black, curly hair. She had never seen the offspring of a white person and a negro before. She had of course heard of William Wilberforce, the man who had insisted on the abolishment of slavery, which had been made law in an earlier decade, but having only seen the “blacks” who had worked on the docks at Cape Town, this exotic looking woman who was staring back at her with a pair of startled, sloe coloured eyes, sitting as she was on the captain’s bunk bed, mending a tear in the hem of her calico dress, came as a complete surprise.
Recovering her composure as was her want as an upper class lady, Lady Harriet sprang across and grabbed the barefooted girl, pulling her savagely through the door, across the deck and up the steps to where the captain stood at the wheel, looking down in disbelief at the scene before him. The girl, screaming in fright at being discovered by this fearsome looking white woman, brought the attention of Sir Rodney and his fellow players, as they were having a game of quoits.
“Now, now, dear lady” said her husband, puffing slightly as he rushed up behind his wife, who had now released the sobbing girl and was now sitting at the feet of the angry looking captain. “Has this person done something to offend you, or have we got a stowaway on board?”
“Stowaway, Sir Rodney, only you could come up with such a simple explanation. I found this creature languishing on the bed in Captain O’Neill’s accommodation. She is one of the two women brought aboard for the entertainment of the crew, or so I heard from a very reliable source.”
Lady Harriet, her face sweaty with nostrils flared, her grey hair having come out of its untidy bun and her plump body heaving with exertion, caused Sir Rodney to look upon the frightened girl with sympathy. Who wouldn’t be terrified of his domineering wife?
“Captain O’Neill,” he said, aware that as Her Majesty’s representative he must be seen to handle the situation firmly but diplomatically. He also saw that he had an audience that was agog with the most excitement they’d had since they had come aboard. “Perhaps it would be best for all concerned if we adjourned to somewhere more private, the saloon perhaps, where the bosun could make us a cup of tea.”
The captain, feeling that his position was a little precarious now that the interfering old bat had discovered one of the girls that he had actually ordered some of his crew to go and capture at their last port of call, was quick to dismiss his sniggering men as he felt his authority dwindling. Aiming a kick at his petrified lover, he strode ahead of Sir Rodney, wondering who the spy must have been. There had to be one, how else would the upper class besom have known about it?
Monica, who was looking on, felt a thrill as she witnessed O’Neill’s humiliation. It would serve him right for spurning her, if he was stripped of being captain of this ship.
*
It was with joy and uplift that the passengers, steerage included, stood on the decks of the valiant vessel a few weeks later, looking across to the lush, green hills and dense forests in the distance, as the ship nosed its way towards its quayside berth.
Anchoring amongst the profusion of vessels which had journeyed from all over the world in the pursuit of commodities to trade, the sound of cheering from aboard the ship was deafening. This was it, a new life beckoned. Some were fulfilling a distant dream, whilst others who had been forced from their homes or come to work in the colony, viewed their arrival with a certain amount of trepidation.
Down below on the busy quay, bullock carts unloaded grain into the holds of cargo ships; fishing boats laden with their catch of the day sold fish by the barrel to waiting merchants; cattle boats, the animals squashed together akin to passengers in an emigrant ship, were under sail in readiness for a swelling tide and bales of wool stood waiting, ready to be loaded onto the Umpherston, her return cargo destined for the weaving sheds of England.
Agents in smart attire waited for the passengers, some of them carrying lists. These were Her Majesty’s representatives, there to collect those who had been given free passage to work as labourers in the colony. A stout woman scanned the deck above of the newly anchored ship, looking for the young girls who had been sent to the colony by a couple of Irish orphanages. They would be good, Catholic, God fearing girls who would make decent servants for the cream of society already there. Maura, in charge of seven of these girls, dithered, as she looked down upon the woman, having promised Hannah a place with the Filbeys, if that was a possibility. She felt unsure now what the reaction of the Superintendent from the orphan depot would be.
The gangplank down, the passengers stood waiting, whilst two emigration agents scrutinized the embarkation orders which everyone had to show. Molly, standing with Hannah amidst the chattering girls, was lost amongst them and didn’t turn a hair when the Filbeys, having had their papers stamped and now allowed to set foot on Australian soil, went ahead to collect their trunks. Nor was she noticed when Maura and the other matron’s head count was taken as read and the excited orphans were chivvied down to the quayside.
“I’m sure it doesn’t matter to me” Mrs. Manley, the stout woman who had been waiting for them said to Maura, after she had shaken the Superintendent’s hand and explained that one of her charges may already have a place with one of the families who had travelled aboard the Umpherston and was looking for a nursemaid. It had been discussed as a possibility already with the Filbeys, as their daughter had got on very well with Hannah.
“Hannah Sweeney?” The woman took her pencil and crossed the name off her list. She felt thankful. The Irish weren’t so popular as they had been when the settlement of Adelaide was new and any worker had been snapped up as soon as their feet hit terra firma. It wasn’t just because they were Irish, but because there was a lot of them around. Institutions such as workhouses and asylums were opening their doors in the mother country, embracing the call for workers to populate the new colonies, in an effort to reduce the amount of mouths they’d had to feed. German orphans were popular now, snapped up by the farmers who toiled on their land in Hahndorf, whilst some of the girls from a previous British emigrant ship were taking up space at the depot in Pulteney Street and eating their heads off whilst they waited for a job.
“Now, I’ve organised a couple of carts. A bit of a squash, but I know from experience that they’ll be used to that. You put your girls on that one, Maura and get what’s her name, that other matron to load her girls on the other.”
She walked across to where the Filbeys stood, Bessie insisting that they hire at least a bullock dray to take them and their luggage to Adelaide
, where Clarence was to meet Sir Rodney at the land title’s office. Having looked at the dry mud caked earth of the rutted track that people and vehicles seemed to be following, she didn’t relish trailing a child and two heavy trunks. Besides, what would Sir Rodney and Lady Harriet think if they arrived in the city many hours later, tired and weary, running with sweat as the day was humid, with their clothes already threadbare with constant wear and boots covered with this red, dusty mud? They would know them for paupers and wouldn’t feel obliged to help them at all. She began to wave as a black, open air phaeton, pulled by four brown horses passed by. Then she felt cross, when she saw that the distinguished couple had given a lift to the Trowbridges. What a sly cat that Margaret Trowbridge was; she had never said a word about getting a lift when they’d all said goodbye that morning.
“Bernardette Manley at your service, Ma’am.”
The stout woman stood politely at the side of Bessie, fearing that she might antagonize this would be employer who was wearing a sour expression on her face.
“I understand that you would like us to release one of our orphans into your charge. I believe her name is Hannah Sweeney. For a small persuasion, or should I say donation to the welfare of these poor unfortunates, I am prepared to place her with you as a nursemaid.”
Another call on his ever dwindling florins, Clarence looked at Bessie in askance. Surely she would be looking after the child?
“We’ll take her.” Bessie nodded vigorously, butting in quickly when she saw her husband’s look, knowing full well he was about to argue. She scrabbled in her reticule for a couple of shillings, mindful of the need to watch her savings too.
“Hannah,” she called quickly to where the thin faced child stood uncertainly between them and the other orphans. “Get your bag and as soon as Mr. Filbey gets our transport sorted, then we’ll be off.”
“So?” she said to Clarence, after the girls from the orphanages were loaded in the carts and Hannah stood with Molly, waving to them, as the drivers geed up their horses. “I’ll have enough to do supporting you on this great piece of land you’re after farming, without playing mother to Molly.”
*
Back along the port, whilst Clarence was haggling a price to the town with the driver of a fly wagon, and a group of single women were being escorted to one of the buildings across the way, an altercation had broken out when three men from the Umpherston and a government official clashed at the bottom of the gangplank. It appeared that some of the men, destined to be ticked off his list and taken across the road to where their employer waited, had disappeared. He had pounced on the three, thinking that by the look of them, as none were wearing uniform, just navy guernseys and working mens’ trousers, that they were the three that were missing from his list.
One of the men was Jimmy, the overseer of steerage, who had made up his mind to jump ship in Port Adelaide and head for the gold fields of Ballarat. The other two, members of the crew that worked in the galley, had been given leave by the captain now that their duties were over for the day. None had papers and the official, mindful of the dressing down that he would be given by his superior if he lost three would be farmhands and their employer was waiting in the building across the road to receive them, shouted to a colleague to bring along a trooper to sort out the men.
Jimmy, seeing his chance when the official then ran across the busy highway between the wagons, carts, bullocks and horses, as no one had heard him above the melee, headed towards the east to join the well worn track to Victoria, where gold was there for the taking in the many rivers and streams.
A group of aborigines looked on, watching the antics of these crazy people, who had now become established in their lands.
*
Waiting with their trunks and bags for Clarence to appear with their transport, Bessie suddenly began to feel overwhelmed with thankfulness. They had made it. Praise the Lord they had made it and had lived in veritable comfort compared with their fellow men. Instead of living hand to mouth, packed together like sheep off to the market and existing in squalid conditions, whilst waiting on the whim of Jimmy to open up the hold and what food could be sourced from the mess captains, they’d had comfortable bunks, a cabin maid, were very well fed and had commanded the ear of the captain and the honourables. Of course the creaking of the ship, louder at night, took some getting used to, as did learning to roll with the ship when walking along the deck and having to ask Filbey to leave the cabin while she used the chamber pot. But for most of the voyage the seas had been calm, except for one such time when a squall had pitched and tossed the boat for a couple of days and it had been a case of battening down the hatches and taking to the bunks. They were there now though, back on terra firma and only one man, bless his soul, had perished when he’d been swept overboard. Of course it hadn’t been very pleasant when Lady Harriet had insisted that those trollops be flogged and put ashore at a small and desolated island, but then what could a girl expect if she behaved so flagrantly.
Bessie looked across at the row of wattle and daub cottages, where passengers from the Umpherston stood whilst waiting to be assigned to the many farmers, builders and households that were willing to take a migrant on. Carriages, wagons and drays, the horses or bullocks shifted impatiently, stirring up the dust with the pawing of their hooves. One of those couples could have been her and Filbey, working for a petty-fogging master, reliant on his spirit of justice and good will. She watched indignantly as a man and woman were left to walk behind a dray while their master whipped up his team of bullocks, although he had kindly allowed them to stow their trunk in his vehicle.
There was only one substantial building on the side of the wharf; a yellow stone, slate roofed dwelling named the Customs House. It was where the government officials held court and demanded tariffs from the import and export of goods.
A group of aborigines, wild and shaggy, caught her eye as they shuffled along the front of it, aping the dress of white men in dirty, cut off trousers and tatty looking shirts.
“I’ve never seen a black man, Missus,” a small voice said at the side of her, looking over with enormous eyes, as the indigenous were shooed along by an officious person. “I seen a Romany once when she came to our farm to sell me mammy things.”
“Did you Hannah?” said Bessie absently, watching George Colmayne and his wife struggling across the road with their bags and offspring. She wondered what would happen to the agreeable little family, At least he must have a bit put by now from the coins he had earned from his teaching.
“Climb aboard Bessie,” Clarence shouted, as he jumped off a battered looking wagon pulled by a tired looking horse and driven by a dark skinned driver with a mass of curly hair whom he had managed to haggle a knockdown price with. It seemed that vehicles, grand or poor, were much in demand on the busy docks of Port Adelaide. “Hannah, you help Molly and I’ll help the driver with our trunks.”
“Couldn’t you have found something a little better?” Bessie demanded as the wagon set off, she supposed in the direction of Adelaide. “I saw the Trowbridges travelling in a phaeton with the honourables. Margaret didn’t say anything about that when she said goodbye before.”
“Be glad you’re not walking” Clarence growled, feeling hot and bothered as the day was warm and he felt the weight of what was to come sitting on his shoulders. “At least we’ve got some transport. Look at the poor beggars who are having to leg it.”
“Molly wants to go” Hannah piped up as the horse began to trot along the dusty track towards the flat plain covered in bush land. Its steady pace caused Bessie to search in her reticule for a handkerchief to bury her face in under her large brimmed hat. It was not only the dust that was irritating, but pestering flies that they seemed to have attracted.
“Tut, that’s all we need. Filbey ask the driver to stop at the side of those bushes. Hannah you can take her and make sure she doesn’t get her ‘loons wet.”
She watched impatiently as Clarence helped the girls down, won
dering not for the first time, why she had wanted to bring a child to this foreign land. She’d had no experience with small children other than her sister-in-law’s when she and Filbey had been visiting. She hadn’t the patience, nor a maternal bone in her body if the truth was known. In the early years of her marriage, a child would have been a blessing – someone to pass the farm on to and a worker to help them in their elderly years. Perhaps they should have left Molly behind in the cabin. One of Maggie’s family was supposed to have been there.
“We’ll not be bothering his lordship” Clarence said quietly, startling her out of her bitter thoughts as she reflected on having two more mouths to feed as well as her and Filbey.
“We’ll be wasting his time and ours if we follow him to the city. I’ve made him think I’ve been a wealthy farmer, all this sitting at the captain’s table and having the comfort of that cabin, but imagine his face when he finds I can only afford twenty acres of that land he told us about.”
“Twenty.” Bessie was scornful. “Twenty acres, after all that money you had in a stash under the floorboards?”
“Ah, it was you who’d disturbed it. I wondered. Thought it was Maggie, though she’d have never touched a penny if she had.” His face looked red and Bessie wondered if he was going to make something of it. She braced herself, ready to give him a tongue lashing, even if the driver would be listening to them.
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