Hannah

by Raymond Clarke

  ‘That’s all right.’ She squeezed his shoulder. ‘We’ll get through this.’

  ‘Of course we will.’ He smiled, rose and touched her gently on the cheek. ‘I can’t think of a better team than Hannah and Daniel.’

  ‘Oh, get on with you. You’ll have me blushing in a minute.’ She gave him a push and a giggle. ‘Go feed the animals before it gets too dark.’

  They dozed on and off through the night until near dawn when Blue’s growling startled them from their bed. Daniel sprung to the south-facing window and looked for the dog. In the brightness of the moon, Blue stood, ears flattened, head pointing to the east. ‘The creek,’ he shouted. ‘Something’s moving down at the creek.’ He slammed open the shutter for the east window and stared into the darkness while the dog continued to growl deep in his throat.

  ‘What can you see?’ Hannah came to the window to join him.

  ‘Nothing now but I thought I saw movement before. Blue’s seen something.’ He rubbed his eyes to rid himself of the sleep-induced mist. ‘You look, love. Your eyes are sharp.’

  She studied the creek bank, trying to remember every detail of the shapes of the acacias and the willows, searching for the abnormal. ‘Yes,’ she said, finally, surprised at how calm she was. ‘I can see some figures down there. They’re coming up over the bank now—’

  ‘Now I see them,’ Daniel grunted. ‘Give me Tony’s musket.’ She passed the Brown Bess and he pushed the long, slender barrel out through the wire grill. ‘Are you ready to reload?’ he asked, although they’d been practicing all evening.

  ‘Yes.’ She gave a nervous smile and took up a position at the table, powder horn, paper cartridges, lead balls and tamping rod laid out neatly before her. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Bless you, my love.’ Daniel turned back to the window. Figures of the black men became clearer now as they pushed through the thick grass. He could see about a dozen, no, more, possibly fifteen or so. The white striping on their bodies gave them the appearance of walking skeletons in the light. The dog, baring his teeth, threw himself forward on the constricting rope. The blacks were close now, in the clearance, near the chook pen, a mere forty yards away. He raised the muzzle and fired over the head of the nearest figure. The explosion ruptured the silence within the house.

  Charlotte woke and screamed. ‘Mummy, what is that?’ Outside, animated shouting and eerie chanting accompanied Blue’s frenzied barking.

  ‘Hush, Charlie,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s all right love.’ She passed Daniel the other musket and took back the Brown Bess. ‘You have to be brave, too, Charlie, like Daddy. Okay, cherub? Good girl,’ she nodded at her daughter as Daniel fired again.

  ‘Get the Brown Bess. Hurry, Hannah,’ he yelled.

  She fumbled with the paper-cartridge, fingers numb, and dropped it on the floor, before she recovered it and ripped it open with her teeth. She emptied the powder into the pan and locked it, slid the stock to the floor and poured the powder grains down the bore. She tamped, dropped the ball in and tamped again.

  ‘Here,’ she gasped. ‘Here, Daniel, here.’ She grabbed the other musket from him and bent to repeat the process. Oh, God, she prayed, staring up into the thatched roof. I can’t keep up with this. Help me, dear God.

  Charlotte continued to cry, fingers over her ears and Hannah jumped at the explosion as Daniel fired a third shot in the air. Tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks but she swept them aside, with a sleeve blackened with gunpowder, and primed the older musket. She reached for the Brown Bess suddenly aware that he had stopped firing. ‘Daniel, what is happening?’

  ‘They’re breaking,’ he told her, exhilaration in his voice. ‘Yes, they are going back over the creek and . . .’ He listened turning his head in the silence, and smiled. ‘What do you hear?’

  ‘I hear horses,’ she cried, joyful. ‘It could be the soldiers.’

  ‘No, it’s not the soldiers.’ He motioned her forward. ‘Come and watch this.’ Galloping horses swept past the house, the Dalgety boys with excited shouts and firing their pistols. Hannah winced.

  ‘Give me the Brown Bess, Hannah. I’m going out.’

  ‘I’m coming, too,’ she said, firmly. ‘I’ll bring the other musket just in case.’

  He eyed her with admiration. ‘You’re all right, Hannah Clarke.’

  ‘Did you ever have any doubts?’ She raised her eyebrows and surveyed him up and down.

  ‘Not any more, I don’t.’ He put his arm around her which was awkward with guns in their hands and eyed his tearful daughter. ‘Let Charlie come too, if she wants. It’s all over now, I warrant.’

  Charlotte gave a sob of relief and ran to her mother, clutching at one leg. ‘Careful, little one, I’ve got a loaded musket here. You stand up by Mummy’s side. You’re a big girl now.’

  They walked outside into the silence of the early dawn. Anxiously, they looked to the creek where the Dalgety sons raced their horses in a circle in front of the willows. Blue whimpered and Charlotte ran to hug him. ‘Good doggie,’ she gushed. ‘Oh, you’re a good boy.’ They grew quiet as the Dalgety boys rode towards them, horses a lather of sweat.

  ‘Quite a night,’ Olly grinned, dismounting, and his brother followed suit. ‘You did well, Daniel and . . .’ He swept his hat off and gave a bow. ‘Hannah, a real pioneer wife now, I’d say.’ He chuckled. ‘I reckon you and my Henrietta make a good pair.’

  Hannah felt proud. ‘I passed the test, did I?’ She brightened. ‘Maybe I did but I’ll let you into a secret. I was terrified.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ Daniel said, straight-faced. ‘Tell me, what is happening now, Olly?’

  ‘Aye, they’ve gone and they won’t be back for some time if at all so you can relax.’

  ‘Did I hear some time? I don’t like the sound of that.’ She brightened. ‘Would you boys like a cuppa?’

  ‘Love one, Hannah,’ Olly said. ‘First we have business to attend to. ’ He and Rube reloaded their pistols while the Clarkes watched.

  Hannah passed her musket to Daniel and scooped Charlotte up into her arms. ‘It’s all right now, love,’ she kissed a wet cheek. ‘You and I will go and get the tea ready for the men. Okay?’

  ‘Come on, Daniel,’ Olly said and they walked down towards the creek. ‘There might be one or two still down there,’ he added, without emotion. ‘I’m sure I nicked one.’ They moved on closer to the creek, pushing aside the waist-high grass. In the moonlight, they could see blood smears on the grass and followed them to the bank of the creek. ‘They dragged one through here. See?’ Olly stood warily, pistol in hand. ‘He could be back in there.’ He pointed into the darkness of the willows. They stepped warily down the bank and gently pulled aside the willow’s expansive fronds. A trail of blood led away into the water of the creek. They’ve taken him with them,’ Olly commented. ‘They always do that. They rarely leave them.’

  They turned away and went back to the house. ‘Now, we’ll have that cuppa, missus,’ Rube said, pushing back his hat from a sweaty brow. ‘Then we had better go into Windsor and report it.’

  ‘Yes, we have to do that but we had better do it now, I be thinking, seeing the sun is just up,’ Olly retorted. ‘Sorry, Hannah, we’ll catch up on the brew later.’

  They locked the hut, stabled the horse and cow, re-tethered the dog and Daniel took Hannah and Charlotte across to the Dalgetys. Henrietta welcomed them with open arms and hugged Hannah. ‘Oh, come in, I believe you’re a hero, Hannah,’ she gushed.

  ‘A reluctant one, Hen,’ Hannah smiled, ‘All I did was to load the guns and pray.’

  ‘Now, that’s the important job,’ Henrietta chuckled. ‘Anyone can fire those things.’ She shot an amused glance at her father-in-law who gave a non-committed ‘humph.’ The two women laughed and steered a wide-eyed Charlotte into the kitchen.

  In Windsor, they reported directly to the military headquarters. Lieutenant Mercer was out patrolling, the Sergeant told them, much to Daniel’s relief. The Sergeant re
corded the account of the attack laboriously with a damaged quill and listed settler’s names in a sprawled hand on government headed paper.

  On the way back, Daniel was silent, thoughts on the boy he’d seen yesterday. Was he in the attack? Barely out of puberty, this young lad had stood up bravely for what he believed was right, defending his lifestyle and the land of his forebears. Who was he to blame the boy or the Aborigines? He only prayed that they could live in peace from now on. As for Hannah, she’d just been through a trauma that most women had never experienced. He was so proud of her, particularly since early last night when she’d told him another child was on the way, another young Clarke to help maintain their future and build a family of their own in this wild Australian wilderness.

  Suddenly, he was feeling better. He was going home. ‘Can’t this old grey mare go any faster?’ He shouted above the clip clop of the horse.

  ‘She’s flat out now,’ Robe gave a cackle. ‘She’s not made for speed, the old girl.’

  ‘You can always walk,’ Olly smiled, while drawing on his pipe.

  ‘Could be a bit quicker,’ Daniel chided and they all laughed. Even the old grey mare pricked up her ears, Daniel noted . . .

  Spring came to South Creek and the landscape began to bloom in expectation of the coming warmth. Every morning they walked their block, Charlotte with a lean-looking Blue trailing behind. ‘He’s lost his puppy fat,’ Daniel observed. ‘He’s looking like a real dog now.’

  Hannah giggled. ‘He’s lost it and I’ve put it on.’ She grew pensive as she turned to view the dog. ‘I think though he grew up that night of the attack.’ By habit, she looked down to the creek and shivered at the instant vision of the ghostly figures of the blacks emerging from the willows. ‘I guess we all did,’ she added thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes,’ Daniel nodded. ‘We did but it’s all over now. The military chased the blacks back over the river and dispersed them into the hills. That’s what they say in town.’

  ‘We can only hope so. ‘Hannah contemplated the mountains to the south west. ‘This is such a beautiful place. Wouldn’t it be great if there was peace between the natives and the settlers? I mean, being able to live side by side on the land with mutual respect?’

  Daniel eyed his wife lovingly, admiring her swollen tummy. She looks radiant, he thought, and she’s carrying my child this time. ‘It’s a good thought, Hannah, but it won’t happen in our lifetime. It could take many generations. The Aborigines and the Europeans are two different cultures. It’s an almost impossible task to reconcile us but it will come one day. It has to.’ Daniel eyed his wife closely. ‘I hope you’re not lifting things, are you?’

  ‘Stop worrying, I’m all right. Henrietta comes over just about every day. Look, see that gum there?’ She changed the subject by pointing. ‘The young one in the middle, I mean. That’s a flowering gum, Toby says. It’ll have dark red flowers in late summer.’

  ‘Good, we’ll be able to see it from the house.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, and felt the baby kick. Suddenly, she felt unbelievingly tired. ‘I think I’ll go and lay down.’

  ‘Charlotte,’ he called. ‘Go with Mummy and help her lie down.’

  The child came to the door, eyes expressive. She swished a tendril of honey hair away from her eyes. ‘Yes, Daddy,’ she responded, in that soft voice of hers.

  Yes, Daddy. He was exhilarated. Rarely had she called him Daddy, only once or twice before. He saw Hannah smiling as they moved off back to the hut, Blue, with lolling tongue, tagging along behind. That dog is their shadow, he thought. He never lets them out of his sight. He’s handy when I’m not here. He walked down to the south paddock to weed the corn crop but his thoughts were elsewhere as he swung the hoe. Would he have another daughter or would it be the son he always wanted?

  Mary Ann Clarke came into the world on the seventh of January 1815, Hannah having an easier birth by comparison with that of Charlotte. Henrietta and Peggy Catchpole, a midwife from Richmond, ordered Daniel out of the hut and delivered a healthy dark-haired baby. Daniel and the dog sat out the ordeal by the fire until called just before dawn to view the new addition to the family. ‘She’s beautiful,’ he exclaimed, tightly clutching the infant to his chest, petrified that he was going to drop her. ‘Our second daughter,’ he said with admiration.

  ‘Don’t hold her so tight,’ Peggy Catchpole ordered. ‘Here, give her to me.’ She sniffed then chuckled. ‘Men, Hannah, what else could you expect from them?’

  ‘Are you disappointed, Daniel?’ Hannah as Henrietta mopped her brow.

  ‘No, my love, I’m so proud of this little one.’ He kissed her hands and glanced at the bundle being rocked smoothly to and fro by the midwife. ‘I wouldn’t swap her for all the rice in China.’

  ‘Charlie, here love, come here and see your little sister.’ Peggy lowered the baby so she could see.

  The child’s dark eyes focused on the tiny head. ‘Nice,’ Charlie said thoughtfully and everyone laughed.

  Chapter 13

  SOUTH CREEK, WINDSOR

  1815-1817

  ‘They’re back.’

  ‘Who’s back?’ Hannah asked, dreading the answer.

  Daniel gave her a keen look. ‘The blacks are back.’ He smacked a hand on a thigh in disgust. ‘They’ve raided settlements up north, picking one here and one there, never in the same area twice. They keep moving on, the clever buggers. Damn.’ He kicked up the dust with a well-worn boot. ‘Toby says Macquarie is sending a further three detachments up here. They’re trying to flush them out in the open, once and for all.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ Hannah said, shaking her head. ‘Not again. Not more senseless killing.’ On instinct, she looked around for her five year old daughter and remembered Charlotte would be in the chook pen, collecting the eggs. It was her job. She did it every morning when she wasn’t down at the pig pen talking to and cuddling the piglets.

  Blue sat near Charlie pretending no interest in the hens and roosters. t. Hannah’s gaze centered on the dog. He’d killed a hen one day last month but he’d quickly learnt his lesson. Hannah had done what her father used to do on the farm. She’d tied the dead bird around his neck for a week. Wherever he went, the rotting carcass went with him.

  Daniel thought it was amusing but effective but Charlotte didn’t think it was funny at all. She screamed, stamped her feet and said her mother was cruel. ‘Daddy,’ she cried. ‘I hate Mummy.’ He’d spoken to her softly, explaining why it was done, looking over her golden locks to the amused face of his wife. But it worked, Hannah remembered. Blue would now only look with distaste at the birds but never touch them. As for Charlie, well, she’d soon forgotten, as she cuddled my brother Blue.

  Their harvest in the summer of 1816 gave them their first real income from the land. Windsor was developing as the granary of the colony. Sure, they’d sold the creamy butter Hannah made to the town residents of Windsor — the military couldn’t get enough — and Daniel hired himself out to cut red gum slabs for the nearby farms but they needed a steady income. Life was pleasant, if a rough existence with few pleasures, except their own company and the occasional visits of neighbors to break the monotony of work. Using part of the maize sale, they bought a dray from the Everinghams in Windsor. It was an exciting day for the family when their horse pulled it home.

  Hannah couldn’t believe it. ‘Oh, Daniel,’ she cried, running around feeling the wheels and the sides of the wide tray. ‘Now, we can go picnicking like everyone else does and . . .’ her eyes glistened with excitement. ‘I can go into Windsor with the children and do some shopping.’ She grasped Charlotte and spun her around in a whirl, while an amused Daniel watched.

  ‘It’s mainly for carrying sheep and stuff in, you know,’ he said, dryly, ‘and not intended to carry people.’

  ‘Nonsense, everybody uses drays and carts that way. Anyhow, you make sure you clean it out before we get in it,’ she said, cheekily.

  Daniel laughed. ‘Like hell.’

 
In late April, they heard about the fight on the Hawkesbury. Some were calling it a massacre, others justice for all the bloody past years. Fourteen blacks were killed and five taken prisoner, Toby told them on his weekly visit. No, he couldn’t swear there wouldn’t be isolated raids by a couple or even a few rogues in the future but it was unlikely there would be an attack by a large mob again on the Hawkesbury. ‘They’re about finished,’ he said. ‘I think we will have peace from now on.’

  Hannah sighed. She hated the thought of deaths, whether white or black. But perhaps from now on we can really live in peace, both the settlers and the natives, she thought.

  ‘And there’s more.’ He puffed on his pipe and watched their faces. ‘You might remember Lieutenant Johnathan Mercer?’ On their nod, he continued. ‘He’s dead, killed in a skirmish near Richmond.’

  Hannah put a hand to her mouth in contemplation while Daniel almost spilt the tea from his pannikin. ‘How did he die?’ Daniel asked, but his eyes were on Hannah.

  ‘As a hero, apparently, so the story goes. He was scouting east of Richmond. He often did that, going out alone, challenging the natives. He must have fought to the last as there were signs of a struggle all around the camp. He suffered severe head injuries. No one knows whether it was the blacks or a convict with a grudge. He had plenty of enemies. ‘Toby puffed heavily on his pipe, eyes flickering from one to the other. ‘I believe you’d met him before.’

  Hannah looked across at Daniel. ‘Yes, we knew him.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Toby continued, ‘they’re taking his body back on the packet to Sydney for burial. He’s got a wife and four or five children back there, so they tell me.’

  Hannah nodded and stared away into the bush, aware of the men’s eyes on her. She should feel relief but her heart wasn’t in it. She would always remember the tall, red-coated soldier with the cruel, thin lips and foul mouth. He had been harsh and arrogant and yet he was the father of sons and daughters and a husband to a woman who probably loved him and waited for him to come home. It was a strange world. Now, he was making his last trip back on the Rose Hill packet.