Convict Girl

by Chrissie Michaels

  There was a burst of applause for the heroes. I pulled Antoine aside. ‘Did you face all that danger, or is Citizen Péron only flattering himself again?’

  ‘He may have strayed a little from the truth,’ Antoine admitted. ‘The shark may have been but a large fish. Besides I only went in the first place because I thought I would come upon a good variety of plants.’

  I was just about to tell Antoine how addled he was for listening to Citizen Péron, when he was called to report to the Commander without delay. On his return he was full of complaint. ‘He would have abandoned us, allowed us to perish.’

  I did not like to hear such resentment in his voice and told him so sharply, ‘The Commander has to put duty ahead of everyone. He is under orders too. The collection must always be his first concern. But he always has your welfare in mind. Lawdy, had you been any longer the whole of the fish haul would have spoiled too.’ I softened. ‘Will you take me to see the beautiful and precious shells you collected?’

  ‘They are mainly commonplace ones,’ he admitted, ‘and Citizen Péron made me carry them all by myself.’

  Still, I liked his shells. They were speckled in red, green and yellow. But my attention was soon drawn to a tooth taken from a huge, dark grey creature that Citizen Péron had discovered buried under the sand. My eyes opened wide as Antoine told me that the shape of its head resembled a hippo, yet its torso was like a sea elephant. Citizen Péron knew it to be a dugong.

  19 April 1803

  29 Germinal XI

  We have been sailing through crushing heat. The sky is always hazy, the air still. Occasional lightning darts from parts of the horizon. Sudden storms hit then vanish. All the animals are unsettled.

  Antoine keeps saying Timor Island where we are headed is full of sickness and disease. ‘When the expedition visited Kupang Bay back in 1801, the most able-bodied were struck down in a matter of hours,’ he told me, ‘the head gardener was one of the men lost.’ He has filled my heart with dread, not only for myself, but also for the Commander whose nagging cough has continued to worsen. I hope he is strong enough to withstand this stopover.

  7 May 1803

  17 Floréal XI

  We anchored in Kupang Bay today. At first glance you would not know this idyllic island spreads disease and death. Scattered on the hills are stands of palm trees with wide leaves that open like fans. A timber fort and huts line the shore.

  The Dutch governor is feverish. Even so, he managed to welcome the Commander and offer him comfortable lodgings. He gave news of Captain Flinders. Investigator sailed away from here four weeks ago in a decayed and unseaworthy state. Many of the crew were ill with scurvy and dysentery. When the Commander learnt that Captain Flinders had fully charted the Gulf of Carpentaria, he was most anxious to know if his chart held the answer as to whether a sea divided New Holland and New South Wales into separate islands. He said the First Consul would be bitterly disappointed if France was not the first to know.

  Kupang

  13 May 1803

  23 Floréal XI

  At daybreak Citizen Péron left on horseback along with some islander guides. They were headed for the muddied lagoons to hunt for a crocodile. Accompanying them was Citizen Lesueur who wished to draw the swamp creatures.

  My day’s work was not so adventurous. I was sent to the kitchen hut to assist. There were ladles and spoons made from buffalo horns and coconut shells, but in which order and for what dish I was to lay them out I failed to understand. Thankfully, Astérina, a shy servant girl befriended and helped me. After being surrounded by sailors for such a long time, I appreciated her companionship.

  Later I took to the shade to watch Citizen Petit draw her. She was wearing a soft blue cloth tied into a loose shift, and she held a round bamboo tray on which stood a small brass pitcher and bowl. Her feet were bare and delicate. A fringe of curls softened her blue-black hair, which was pulled tightly into a knot. Citizen Petit made a good likeness.

  15 May 1803

  25 Floréal XI

  The Citizens returned in triumph from their hunt, and we are all in awe. What a mighty crocodile it must have been.

  As usual, Citizen Péron wished to make a show of his tale to everyone. I confess I could not resist being part of his amazed audience. I have tried to write his story down exactly as he told it:

  ‘At the swamp we spotted the monster partly submerged. Our guides were filled with wonder, and at the same time terror, for they worship the crocodile. They would only watch from a safe distance.’ (Here Citizen Péron raised an imaginary musket.) ‘A single shot from Lesueur broke its backbone. In spite of the guides having fear in their hearts, we persuaded them to carry back the remains. They struck the crocodile between two long bamboo poles. When we arrived the villagers made us wash down many times before they would come near. The heat of the day made the skin decompose. By the time we returned there was nothing left but this skeleton.’ (We followed his gaze.)

  Lawdy, what a mighty crocodile must have fit those bones!

  20 May 1803

  30 Floréal XI

  Tempers have been fraying, not least mine. I am weary of obeying orders. ‘Bring this, Mary. Fetch that. Fill my glass. Snuff out the candle.’ Like everyone, the heat has pulled me down. Fever has already struck down our citizen botanist, and our astronomer, Citizen Bernier.

  The officers have been more unruly than ever they have been. To make things worse Antoine is never around. He is housed at the fort and is always out searching for plants. I do so miss his company. Kupang is an ill-starred place. I wish we would leave.

  2 June 1803

  13 Prairial XI

  This has been a dark day for me.

  Come first light the Commander wished to take the morning air. He bade me accompany him. Two servants followed behind. At first we walked in silence. When we reached a bridge crossing the little river, the Commander turned to me and said bluntly, ‘You are to remain here, Mary.’

  I felt like I had swallowed a stone. ‘I know I ain’t been a good enough maidservant of late, sir, but—’

  He waved me quiet. ‘The citizen botanist has declared himself unfit to continue with our voyage. So I have decided you are to tend him here until his health improves. Another ship will arrive.’

  He could not mean to sail away and leave me here?

  ‘This is my decision,’ he went on, ‘you must accept it. My officers and scientists, they wear me down with all their complaints. They do not like you being on board. I need my men united. I cannot have you adding to their unruly behaviour.’

  Out of fear I became desperate—stood ready to throw myself into the river—cried out, ‘I would rather end my life swiftly, even before you lose sight of this land, than stay here to be taken by the fever.’

  He summoned the servants to grab my arms and pull me to safety. I was so faint with emotion I could barely stand. ‘I beg of you,’ I cried, ‘if you are to abandon me, do so on happier shores!’

  My plea for mercy reached his heart. ‘Take her to the ship,’ he told the servants, ‘I have wasted enough time on the matter.’ He turned to me, ‘We shall work this out later, Mary.’

  He showed some pity, did he not? At least I was to go back on board. Even if I was to be escorted there under guard.

  Afternoon

  When Antoine sought me out, I was in the kangaroos’ cabin. ‘You look awful,’ he said. My eyes were sore from weeping, my nose red and raw. My hair was dishevelled, my clothes in disarray. He pulled out a hairbrush made from coconut husk. ‘Will this cheer you?’

  See Commander, I sobbed to myself, someone on board does like me.

  Eventually the Commander summoned me. I tidied myself, regained some composure and headed back to the Great Cabin.

  ‘This climate is poisonous,’ he said wearily, ‘it has a way of sending us all to the devil.’ He paused. ‘I want you to take a good look at me, Mary. Do you see how I am only skin and bones? I fear I shall not be in this world for much longer. Y
et I am the one responsible for bringing you on board. Do you think I can leave you to the mercy of this band of unmanageable rascals who call themselves gentlemen? Let me state my intention. After I complete my own survey of the Gulf of Carpentaria I plan to leave you at the Spice Islands. From there you must shape your own destiny.’

  I tried to steady myself. Things might not be as bad as they seemed. The Commander said he has my well being at heart. We will be away from the Kupang fever. I might try to persuade him to change his mind before we reach the Spice Islands. Then all could be well. Yes, all should be well.

  6 June 1803

  17 Prairial XI

  Only three days since we sailed from Kupang, but early this morning the signs of death were written over the face of our kindly astronomer. Our ship’s doctor applied the flies. But to all our great sadness, we have lost poor Citizen Bernier from this life.

  The Commander forced himself from his own sick bed, for he has had severe bouts of spitting blood, to give the funeral rites. His weak voice carried away with the wind. Even so I tried to catch the solemn words. ‘Bernier … a fine young man … his short life … would have surely become a learned astronomer in time …’

  When the Commander added, ‘And although sometimes he abandoned sense, drawn by example or wearied by bad advice, his loss remains an unhappy event to us all,’ Citizen Péron scowled. He knew full well the Commander meant he was the bad example.

  The shrouded body of poor Citizen Bernier was cast into the sea. I watched until there was no trace of him. Only wretched waves and a sense that everything seemed to be turning against us.

  2 July 1803

  13 Messidor XI

  The Watch has sighted a stormy petrel on no fewer than three occasions. The older sailors are muttering it is a bad omen. We have made slow progress for the last month and are no further in our attempt to reach the entrance to the Gulf of Carpentaria than the middle of the Arafura Sea, east of Melville Island. The sea swells heavily. Twenty of the crew are in sick bay, including poor Antoine. The rest seem barely fit to work. Even I cannot shake off a sickness of spirit.

  Most of the animals have been refusing to eat. Yesterday, the emus had to be force-fed pellets of mashed rice. The kangaroos have been so seasick we are feeding them sugared wine three times a day, drawn from the sailors’ rations.

  Our food supplies have dwindled down to salted meat and Meg’s hardtack. There is not enough water for both plants and crew, but the Commander has continued to keep the collection watered. ‘At our cost,’ Antoine keeps reminding me.

  The Commander has had renewed bouts of coughing. He keeps much to himself. His entries into the ship’s log have become brief. Gone are the page lengths filled with velvety script. Even so, he keeps penning short orders to his officers, who continue to be so neglectful.

  4 July 1803

  15 Messidor XI

  Today the Commander’s condition seemed to be much worse. ‘I am close to finished,’ he whispered to me. ‘At least I can attest to having mapped and explored some of the southern and western coasts of New Holland. And the collection has grown beyond my imaginings. There will be much glory for France. I can die a proud man.’

  His men voted for Citizen Freycinet to replace him, should he lose his battle for life. I did the best I could to assist the ship’s doctor, applying a mustard seed poultice and spooning in some brandy tonic.

  7 July 1803

  18 Messidor XI

  From his sick bed the Commander has announced that any further charting of New Holland is at an end. We are abandoning the surveys. Our ships are to make all haste for Port Louis, Ile de France, an island territory in the Indian Ocean, belonging to France. There has been no more talk of leaving me at the Spice Islands.

  When the men heard that the ship had actually turned about, they rushed on deck to check with their own eyes. A cheer went up and they lit their pipes. There was fiddling, and rum for all. Everyone burst into song and danced a jig. Such was their joy.

  Antoine pulled me up, his feet skipping into a dance, his eyes glistening with delight. ‘Off to Port Louis. Then home to family and friends! Huzzah!’ he squealed.

  I felt my own eyes cloud over.

  5 August 1803

  17 Thermidor XI

  We have been many weeks crossing this vast ocean with no sight of land.

  ‘Soon, very soon, we shall arrive at Ile de France,’ the Commander whispered this morning from his sick bed. ‘After I am gone, if Freycinet does not let you sail on to France with Géographe, seek out my brother, Augustin. He is in command of a Danish merchant vessel and sometimes visits Port Louis to trade.’

  Even then as the Commander was turning into a phantom, his citizens showed no pity. Antoine even told me that as soon as they returned to France, Citizen Péron intended to denounce him. What is more, if the Commander did not survive, he intended to rewrite the Commander’s account of the voyage. I could not hold back my shock.

  ‘Citizen Péron surely would not say or do such things! For three long years Commander Baudin has kept these ships afloat. The glory is his.’

  Antoine shrugged. ‘Citizen Péron is only one amongst many with the same intent.’

  I shuddered at his words. How could they all deny the Commander his right to be honoured?

  7 August 1803

  19 Thermidor XI

  Today we reached Ile de France. The Commander pulled himself out of his sick bed and would not rest until he had arranged for the crew to be properly cared for. He ordered some repairs for the Géographe and set about restocking her with food.

  He told me to dress in my cleanest shift and to empty the contents of my sea chest. I am to accompany him to the house of Madame Kerivel, who is a genteel widow friend of his. She has invited him to stay on her estate.

  9 August 1803

  21 Thermidor XI

  Madame’s house lies at the foot of a mountain, wrapped in a forest of lush trees. She has been so kind a friend to the Commander. He rests in his room much of the day, where he keeps a jar filled with pieces of his own lungs. Every time someone enters he raises a weak finger at their display, whispering, ‘Am I not defying death by existing without them?’

  In a further act of friendship, Madame Kerivel has offered her gardens as a refuge for the animals to roam and for the plants to be tended.

  14 August 1803

  26 Thermidor XI

  Antoine visited today to check the ship’s plants. We met at the slave quarters, away from the main house. He let me know that two days ago Casuarina safely anchored. She had been slowed by fierce gales. He brought out three letters from his family in France. ‘Many letters were waiting in Port Louis upon our return,’ he said happily.

  Antoine did not ask after the Commander’s health. But I pressed him, ‘You must never forget that his unrelenting courage brought us safely here.’ He stared ahead as if I had not spoken, at four slaves who were ferrying a guest along the track in a sedan chair. His eyes moved to some young house girls with baskets on their heads who were treading over the small volcanic rocks that are scattered everywhere. ‘Do you have no regard at all for the Commander?’ I asked.

  He would give no reply.

  18 August 1803

  10 Fructidor XI

  A trading ship selling furs has just left Port Louis, bound for Port Jackson. It carries a letter from the Commander to Governor King. I was in the room at the time he penned it and heard him whispering the words as he slowly formed them.

  He let the Governor know he had spent nine months exploring the coast of New Holland. He hoped that between himself and Captain Flinders they had left few gaps in the map. He sent his sincere hope that Captain Flinders had returned to Port Jackson free of accident, considering the Investigator left Kupang in such a poor state. He was pleased to report that the Naturaliste had called at Port Louis on its way back to France. Captain Hamelin had left word for him that the live animals and plants were then in an excellent state. He expected them to
have arrived in Paris by now. The Commander wrote that he was beginning to recover from his own bouts of illness and planned to set sail on the Géographe in December. He trusted in Governor King to believe that they would always be friends and hoped that one day he would honour him with a visit to France.

  I held back a tear, so he could not see my distress. For it is plain as day to me that the Commander is not recovering. His life is fading away.

  16 September 1803

  29 Fructidor XI

  Commander Baudin has been denied his final wish to lead the triumphant return of his collection back to Paris. At midday his brave fight for life came to an end.

  Not long after, some of his officers arrived. I overheard one remark coldly, ‘Baudin’s career is over.’

  They have been cruel to the last.

  17 September 1803

  30 Fructidor XI

  Today we buried a great man. At first the officers and scientists forbade me from attending. I dared them to try and stop me! Them vipers stood there, taking front place at the funeral service. Lawdy! I determined to be the Commander’s strength against them.

  Ann and Tibs would be so proud of me. I was a marvellous Weeper. I wept for the Commander’s kindness to me. For his great accomplishments. For his sense of duty. For his passionate love of nature. Most of all I wept for what he would have achieved, had those peacock officers of his who so openly despised him in life shown him greater respect. All he gave them was care. He always remained loyal to France. Oh, how I wept for his passing.