Michael and Seamus could not believe their good luck. They sat down to discuss the pros and cons of staying there as farm labourers. The biggest risk they faced was, the longer they stayed increased the possibility of discovery. On the other hand the longer they stayed gave them the chance to establish themselves somehow in the community as tradesmen. Michael came up with the suggestion that they stay long enough to learn how to shear sheep and grade wool and then travel between towns. While they were prisoners they had not shaved or had their hair cut. If they kept themselves well groomed and trimmed their eyebrows they would be difficult to recognise. He also suggested they wear high heeled American boots.
Seamus agreed to stay but needed to think about the suggestion of becoming an itinerant shearer, although he conceded that they could work anywhere in the colonies, by being shearers.
Albert was delighted that they had agreed to stay and work for him. They agreed upon a period of three months.
They started next morning furrowing for a new planting of vegetables.
The Alford’s baby arrived early in the morning two days later. Albert called loudly for help from Seamus who had helped in the birth of his sister’s first baby. The birth was uncomplicated and Seamus was more for moral support.
Heather was so grateful she named the boy Seamus. When Albert introduced himself and Heather, Michael and Seamus did not give him their family names. They had previously decided to call each other Mick and Jack respectively and that if challenged they would say that they were deserters from the SS Ventnor. It was not unusual for ships to have crewmen desert after a long voyage. They made an allowance with the Alford’s by telling them their true story as they had helped each other in their hour of need and had now formed a common bond of trust.
For the next month they planted vegetables and they soon had results. Albert had extended the vegetable plots by over a third of the original plots.
By the end of the three months it was time to harvest the vegetable crops. It was so large it took three separate trips to the Sorell market. Michael went to market with Albert. With his close cropped hair, trimmed eyebrows, no beard and a deep suntan, no one even looked at him as other than a farmer.
The crop was a bumper. The prices exceeded Albert’s expectations and he was delighted. Both Michael and Seamus were given a handsome bonus. Life was good.
At dinner one evening, Albert announced that his father and mother were coming to visit. Michael and Seamus froze and did not respond. Albert was surprised as he thought that he had gained their confidence and that they trusted his judgement of what his father’s attitude to them would be.
Heather resolved the impasse. “Seamus, you should remember you helped in the birth of his only grandson; that surely must convince you that he will be supportive of both you and Michael.”
It did convince him and although their three months were up, no one mentioned it and they stayed on to meet Albert’s father. It was a good piece of advice that Albert had given to Michael and Seamus, to destroy their prison uniforms, as they found out after Alfred’s family left for their home at Orford.
George Henry Alford and his wife, Mary, were obviously wealthy. Their coach was highly polished as was their coachman resplendent in his uniform. However, they were not pompous as one would have thought as a first impression.
Albert introduced Michael and Seamus and each felt the warmth in the firm handshake he returned. The women departed to the nursery Michael had made. The men went to the parlour.
Michael had been dreading this moment but George spoke first. “Albert has been telling me about you two. You certainly caused an uproar for a month or so.” Looking at them closely he continued. “It’s a pity the government at the time didn’t give people in your predicament the opportunity to work for the colonies with the skills they possess. Although in your case I’m referring to your farming skills, not the other.”
Seamus gave a wry smile.
The women returned from the nursery with baby Seamus, who became the centre of attention.
Mary Alford turned to Seamus. “It’s nice to have a touch of Irish in Albert and Heather’s family. Thank you for being there for Albert.” Mary spoke with a soft but firm voice. She was no doubt a good strong woman to partner George. She had left Ireland as a young girl with her widowed mother, who had since died. She met George at a dance and they had been together ever since. They loved Van Diemen’s Land, and even though they had travelled to England twice to see George’s relatives, they had no intention of returning.
They only stayed at the farm for two days. The men folk walked around Albert’s property, each giving a comment of what to and what not to do. Shearing was due and there were over three hundred sheep. This would be a learning curve for Michael and Seamus. Albert would prove to be a very capable tutor.
After dinner on the second night George called Michael and Seamus into the parlour and handed them each a letter. The letter they were handed stated that were personally known to him and to render any assistance to them that they might need.
Michael and Seamus were speechless. Two days ago they were fearful at the prospect of meeting this man and here he was giving them a letter of support. They were made out in the names of Mick Somerset Esquire and Jack Lodge Esquire. He signed the letters with his title of Shire President and Justice of the Peace. They all laughed at his name selections. The thanks that they gave him seemed inadequate for this extraordinary favour.
The women shed tears while the men gave hearty handshakes. As a final gesture, George Alford invited the men to visit them at any time at Somerset Lodge, his Orford property. The meeting was most memorable.
During the visit, the coachman had slept in the third bedroom in the labourers’ quarters. He was a very reserved person who kept to himself and did not enter into any conversation whatever. On the day of departure, the men rose early as was the custom, leaving the coachman asleep.
After the visitors departed, Seamus went to his room and found several of his clothes had been moved. He immediately told Michael, who found a similar situation with his belongings. It was a wake-up call for them to be alert at all times, regardless of having a friend in high places.
Thank god they had heeded Albert’s advice and burnt everything from the prison. They mentioned this incident to Albert to warn his father of his coachman’s prowling.
Shearing had started and both Michael and Seamus soon realised that they needed, not only skills, but a strong back. For the first week they lay in a hot bath to ease their sore back muscles. By the second week they were becoming skilled and confident and the soreness gradually disappeared.
For a few days Seamus had been intrigued by an animal pelt on the back of the shearing shed door. It was the size of a medium dog but it had a large head. The pelt was mainly brown with dark stripes radiating from the middle of the back downwards; the stripes were more pronounced towards the hind quarters. He mentioned it to Alfred, who took Seamus into the house and showed him the skull of the animal and also a drawing of it. Alfred explained that it was called a thylacine or, locally, a wolf although some mistakenly called it a tiger. It was native to Van Diemen’s Land. The skull had larger jaws than an ordinary dog and opened much wider. Wolves were creating problems for sheep farmers by the indiscriminate killing of their sheep and were now being shot on sight.
With the noise of the sheep dogs barking and rounding up the sheep it was a satisfying life. Their sheep were merino cross and produced quality fine wool, much in demand in the mills of Milan and Manchester.
By the end of the shearing, Albert announced with a flourish that they were now shearers. They knew how to shear and crutch, and separate the belly wool and scraps from the main fleece. They could grade the quality and roll the fleece ready for pressing. They would now be able to get a shearing job anywhere. The wool clip returned another handsome profit for Albert and a bonus for Michael and Seamus.
That night they all sat down to decide their future. Albert an
d Heather knew they would leave eventually but were secretly hoping they would stay indefinitely.
Michael and Seamus told Albert of their idea to go north as a shearing team, seeking jobs on the way.
Albert asked, “How do you intend to travel?”
“We intend to buy a small wagon, like yours.”
Albert said, “You can have mine; I still have the big wagon.” After much protesting, from both sides, Michael and Seamus became the proud owners of a wagon plus a horse and gear and a sheep dog.
Albert then told them of his plans. They had an offer to purchase their farm and also his mother and father had asked him to manage the Orford farm so that they could retire. They had intended to sell next year but a year earlier suited all parties.
The time for parting arrived and with a tearful Heather and some stiff upper lips and handshakes they each bid farewell. Seamus and Michael promised to visit the Orford farm and keep corresponding with them.
They first drove to Sorell to a coach repairer and had a sign painted on the two sides and the back gate. ‘Shearing — We have a dog.’ It was done quickly and they were away, heading to Richmond. They got their first job a mile out of Richmond on the Cambridge Road. It was only fifty sheep but they were now in business. They still had short haircuts, trimmed eyebrows, were clean shaven and smelt of lanolin from the wool. They decided to write down every shearing job they obtained, to use as references for future jobs.
After they completed this job they drove to Richmond and stayed at the Bridge Inn, next to the jail and court house. They stayed the night and early next morning headed out over the Coal River Bridge, up past the church and then east towards the coast. Two days later a horseman chased them, asking them to shear one hundred and fifty sheep. They were now shearing faster and completed the job in two days. The dog had got used to them by now and worked well following their commands. He was saving them hours with his efficiency at rounding up the sheep. Most sheep runs had poorly trained dogs. They could keep sheep moving in a mob but were incapable of moving a small flock to a pen.
When they reached Buckland, the men restocked with flour, sugar, salt and tea. They had cured meat from the previous farm where they had done some shearing. The next part of their trip took them over a rugged mountain range that separated them from the coastal plains. The tracks made by previous travellers helped them to keep moving but several times they had to dismantle the cart and carry it over a difficult ridge or waterway.
They searched for hours to find a way to lead the horse over a ridge. It took five days to reach the east coast flatlands, where they rested for a day before moving on. By the time they reached the coastline they had had three more jobs and now had money to spare. The scenery had changed. The sea could be seen through the low foliage bordering the coast and it was a pleasant change from the never ending inland gum trees they had been traversing through for the last two weeks.
The road sign said — ‘Orford 2 miles’. The sea breeze was chilly but refreshing and the scene was impressive with its white caps dancing on the waves and the foaming surf crashing on the sandy shore. The blue sea stretched to the horizon, only a small schooner interrupting the skyline. Michael and Seamus truly appreciated their freedom at this moment. They turned north up the road towards the town. George Alford had provided them with a map directing them to the Somerset Lodge farm. Soon the farm sign appeared. They turned the cart and headed up the long driveway towards a row of buildings sited on the top of a low ridge about a mile away.
The paddocks had grazing sheep that were overdue for shearing. Michael and Seamus looked at each other and nodded in silence. They may be here for quite a while! They could hear several dogs barking from the direction of the buildings as they ran down to meet them. Their sheep dog started barking in return and together they created an almighty din.
A horseman rode down to Michael and Seamus and asked their business. He told them to continue up the drive to the big house, then he turned and rode off, the dogs following him.
They reached the end of the driveway and stopped in the front of the large English style manor house.
The front door opened and out stepped George Alford, beaming at them. “Welcome. Please do come in. It’s good to see both of you again. My wife is away today but returns tomorrow and will be delighted to see you two again.” George led them to his lounge room. He called his house maid to prepare them a bath each and said he had a ‘Cow coming in’ and wanted to ensure everything went smoothly. He would meet them here for dinner
They were shown to the west wing, each to their own bedroom with a separate bathroom. They enjoyed lolling in their respective baths and did not return to the lounge until late afternoon.
On arrival they were each offered a Madeira wine or a whisky. The men were in an environment with which they were unfamiliar but one they found enjoyable.
George arrived nearly a half hour late but he was smiling and advised that the cow had dropped an excellent young bull with no difficulties. Dinner was then served.
George immediately asked them to tell him of their travels from Alfred’s farm and how their shearing work was going. He listened attentively, asking a question here and there, and he was pleased to hear of the number of sheep flocks and the increase of crops in the districts through which they had travelled. Perhaps now the colony’s food shortage would soon be resolved.
George’s farm was a five thousand acre Government grant. The area was roughly a square with two sides bounded by the sea and its beaches, with the other two sides enclosed by a three feet dry rock wall along the main north-south road.
When they first arrived they had employed shepherds for their flock, but two years ago he had employed three Irishmen to build the dry rock wall. Mary had seen them in Tipperary and the walls had proved a resounding success. One beach had a small pier sheltered from the easterly winds. A small sailing boat completed the picture and this was used for fishing more for a pastime than a commercial venture.
They had an enjoyable dinner and each of them contributed to the conversation. Seamus surprised them with some of his stories of his poaching days. He had obviously been very successful in his endeavours.
During the conversation George mentioned that he had fired the driver who had entered their rooms. He’d had concerns about his honesty before their incident.
After bidding goodnight, they each went to their rooms, agreeing to meet at eight for breakfast. They had accepted George’s offer to be shown around his property.
The breakfast was sumptuous — eggs, rashers of bacon, freshly baked bread and jam and a large pot of tea. Michael and Seamus could not recall having had a better one. George greeted them full of enthusiasm for his farm which thet could see was his pride and joy.
He and his wife had settled there some twenty years ago, soon after arriving in Van Diemen’s Land. The farm consisted of three thousand acres of rolling grasslands separated into twelve paddocks. Half of the remaining two thousand acres had been cleared for crops, the rest consisted of a forest running along the coastline. He had left these trees intact, to form a windbreak and to provide the shoreline protection from soil erosion.
They rode around the road boundary down to the pier. The sea was calm and the wind from the west. It was a very pleasant scene with the small sailing boat bobbing up and down on the waves. The sandy beach was cluttered with seaweed together with some pieces of timber and other flotsam dumped up on the high tide line. Old seashells also littered the beach, and seagulls wheeled overhead completing the idyllic scene.
The cook had prepared a hamper. Michael lit a fire and boiled the billy and the three sat on the beach quietly looking out to sea, each with their thoughts.
Michael thought of bygone days at the Cliffs of Moher and suddenly felt extremely sad. His mind was suddenly crowded with questions, to which he had no answers. How was his family? Were they surviving? Were they well in mind and body? When would he hear from them? He got up and walked away by himself t
o hide the tears in his eyes.
They completed the ride around the remaining property and were shown the buildings. There were four buildings and all were built of bluestone rock. The homestead was the biggest with five bedrooms, lounge room, dining room, two parlours, a kitchen, servants’ quarters and amenity rooms. The other buildings were a large stable with six horse stalls and parking for two gigs and a coach, a shearing shed with men’s quarters, which appeared too small for his large flock of sheep. The last building was the combined farm equipment shed and milking bay. As George and Mary were actively involved with the running of the homestead, she only had a cook and a general housemaid and he had only a farm hand and a general hand.
George’s two men had been former convicts who had been convicted of poaching and sent to the Antipodes for ‘being caught’! Other farm hands were shared between farms in peak workload periods.
George Alford was truly a self-made man. When they walked through the shearing shed, George turned to Seamus. “No doubt you saw the sheep and realise that the entire flock needs shearing. You two can have the job if you can plan to stay long enough.”
Michael nodded to Seamus who replied for them. “Yes, we would like the job. Thank you.”
Next morning they started rounding up the sheep. Using the dog and with the assistance of the two farmhands they filled up the shed pens each day. The weather was dry and overcast with cloud, ideal for shearing.
They had been shearing for three weeks and the end was in sight — only one pen of sheep remained. George had loaded twenty pressed fleece bales and two bales of pieces and belly wool onto two large four-wheeled wagons.
The wool wagons had been made by a coach builder in Orford. They were an ugly wagon but capable of carrying very large loads and were typical of the local farm scene. The wheels were nearly six feet in diameter with sixteen thick wooden spokes. The wooden wheel rim was encased in a nine inch wide steel band shrunk onto the wooden rim, after being heated and quenched in a water trough. The wagon itself consisted of a flat wooden planked platform made from eucalyptus gum trees, mounted on the axles for the wheels. The horse towing shaft was attached to the platform via a swivel pin and the shaft had two cross poles, one in front of and one behind the two horses. The horses were harnessed to pull from the rear cross pole. The driver could either sit on top of the load or walk beside the wagon, as the horses could only plod along when they had heavy loads.
The Convict and the Soldier Page 15